what are you waiting for?

WAITING to be glued. x-ray showed no glass shards embedded in my palm. stitch? the nurse asked. no way. i said. i took some pix to while the time away. thought i could escape the jab though.

it was excruciating.

never thought i’d ever be at A&E. as i waited, a guy limped past me. i wonder what caused his limp. a middle-aged woman with her mom in wheelchair beside her, patiently waiting for their turn. a young man, who had obviously gotten into an accident, was wheeled out. with toothless grins, he chatted with a friend beside him. an old man, with his head bandaged, was on one of those 'wheel-able beds'. why was there no one with him? a young lady at the registration counter,

handcuffed and with two policemen by her side.

why is waiting so poignant in such a space? is it because the shuttle between life and death is more keenly felt within the confines?

in the same space, one can be waiting to live or to die.