This year, Bob told himself, I will not think of her.
He lay in his hospital bed and stared at the IV where it hung beside its bed. Through the plastic and translucent liquid, the world beyond was concave, as if he were looking through a fishbowl. Idly, he wondered if this was what it really looked like for fish or if they constantly suffered from double vision because their eyes were on either side of their head.
The squeak of wheels on linoleum roused him from his contemplation, and he turned. A nurse - unfamiliar, if young and pretty - wheeled in a tray of food. She smiled brightly at him.
“Hey there, happy new year! Is your family coming to visit?”
“I think they said they’d come by for dinner,” Bob said. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and fidgeted with the blankets. If she’d been older and motherly, he might have let the nurse fluff his pillows and fuss over him, but she was young enough and pretty enough that Bob blushed, if only a little. He missed being able to hide behind his hair.
“That’ll be nice.” The nurse smiled at him and set the tray in front of him.
“Yeah,” Bob said. “Um...where’s Janice?”
“Home with her family,” the nurse said. “I’m low man on the totem pole, as it were, so I’m working the holiday. I’m Caroline, by the way.”
Bob felt his insides clench, but then he forced the sensation away. “It’s nice to meet you, Caroline.”
There. He’d done it. He’d said her name.
“You too. Enjoy your lunch!” And the nurse walked away.
Bob stared at the food for a long time, but he wasn’t hungry. He went back to looking at the IV bag.
(295 words)
1 comment:
ouch. I can see him failing at this. heaven knows you can't stop your mind in it's tracks. the more you try not to think of someone the more you do.
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