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Of A Healer: In Death’s Arms

The Ink Owl

*Warning this piece contains some graphic medical descriptions and medical field situations that some may find disturbing.*

“Hey, could you come here?” Bev called as she stuck her head out of a room.

I hear a note of panic rising slowly in her voice, but didn’t think anything of it as she stepped back beyond the glass door and curtain.

“Yeah, hang on, I’m coming,” I called back launching a pair of used gloves into a nearby garbage.

It was the end of shift and report was finished with only five minutes to spare. The day had been long and arduous and I was ready to be off the unit and out in the real world.

Not that I’ll have time to appreciate it, I thought stepping into the room and seeing a blinding orange sun sink beneath the horizon.

Dark when I get here, dark when I leave, I…

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