The Effect of the Thorns of Country Flowers

She could hear the doctor and nurse's muffled dialogue behind the door. No specific words were clear. It was as if they were speaking another language. Still, she knew what they were saying. There was nothing they could do for her, and now they were going to have her put away to die in a sterile, soulless environment. She knew that.

There were two doors in the examining room. In the months of coming to Dr. Kurtz's office, she had gotten to know them quite well. One door led to an office, behind which the nurse and doctor were making their plans for her short future. The other led to a bright, white hall with several other doors. The furthest door down the hallway led out to the main building. After that, there was just one more door before she was outside again.

She didn't bother getting dressed since even dressing and undressing caused injury at this point. She just quietly slipped out of the examining room in the long white gown.

Out on the street, the sun was bright and warm, but there was a slight breeze. Her apartment was just a couple of blocks away, but she would have to get there quickly.

Suddenly a car rushed past. Her hair and the gown danced madly, seeking to follow the wind but firmly attached to her person. Her skin, however, blew off like snow blown off a snow bank. Droplets of blood formed on her forearms. She pulled her arms inside the gown in a panic. She looked armless, and spots of blood started to soak through the gown. She didn’t notice the attention she was drawing as she grit her teeth through the pain. She had to get home.