10 lines · 92 words · 0:49 read aloud
A night nurse, bed nine, and five minutes she didn't have
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At three in the morning, the hospital belongs to the people who stay awake for everyone else.
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Grace started at seven. Twelve hours, on her feet.
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Medicines. Charts. Alarms.
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She knows who takes two sugars, and who is scared of the dark.
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At four, the old man in bed nine can't sleep.
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She has no time.
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She sits with him anyway. Five minutes.
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At seven, she hands over every bed, every detail, and walks out into the morning.
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Bed nine never learned her name.
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But he slept. And that was the job.
