Ministry of Sounds

 

Can’t sound it, sound, action to her, affects inner harmony, will I get up, she glances at her I-phone. To others it seems extravagant, to her a diagnostic tool, she’s a locum. Irritating, will I.  Her shift starts in, she dips her eyes on the phone, she is precise, a trainee surgeon, doing the steps. Her fingers are long and graceful. Where they have been; last evening, inside the chest of an elderly man, noise disappears, music again, continues reading. She lives in a three room, ignoring the bathroom; everyone has one of those, as vital as a healthy rectum.

 

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