Hands (pt 3)

As if to mock them, Mi’s uniform displayed without a single crease upon the dress form in their hospital room. The grain of the wood in the floor and walls was dark, but browns. All browns. The dark red in the brown made them think everything else around was dried blood. The crisp sheets scratched their skin as they didn’t move an inch. A book lay on the table next to their bed, but closed. Mi didn’t bother reaching for it. They stared out the window.

Their room stood at ground level, like all of the hospital. Like all of the buildings in town. Trees towered above all of them. Mi considered their lives pitiful, as forever attached to the earth.

“Do we have to set a guard on you too?”

Mi ignored Fo. Their brother had said the same words when Mi first got medical attention. When Mi’s words landed on deaf ears, it felt natural to return the treatment.

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