Thumbs Up, Tumbs Down. Every day he would come to visit me; when it rained, when the sun kissed the trees, when he was supposed to be going home. It was bliss when he was here to brighten these halls and hell when he left. His visits were the only thing motivating me to stay through all the poking, prodding and bland men talking as if I were a lab experiment. As my days trudged by, I’d count the hours down.More Like This
“Four more hours.”
“Two more hours.”
“One more hour.”
“Miss, there’s someone here to see you.”
It was a breath of fresh air to hear those simple words.
We had a dance, a routine, he and I. He’d enter my too white room and flash that pretty white smile.
“Hey.” He’d say.
“Hey.” I’d say.