WRITING PROMPT NO. 153
The doors opened to the elevator.
Rose wouldn’t take the stairs today. This morning the effort was too much.
Elevator. Where Rose came from it was called it a ‘lift’. Was she being lifted or elevated in her journey to the top floor? What she needed now was good news, a positive outcome. She opened up the folded piece of paper in her hand. C-wing, Room 34, Dr Bearded. Dr Bearded was a woman. Rose mused for a moment on the peculiar surname. Bearded. Is it correct to say someone is ‘bearded’? Maybe it was a misspelling from long ago.
The lift stopped and the doors slid open. Rose stepped out into the cold flicking light of the hospital corridor. Nurses crossed from one room to the next bringing comfort from pain with doses of tablets that rattled in tiny paper cups.
Which number was it again? Room…She looked at her piece of paper. 34. Room 34. The sign on the wall directed her to rooms 30 through to 55. The arrow pointed straight ahead. Rose scanned every room number as she walked by muttering the numbers under her breath. 30. 31. 32. 33. Here. 34. She stopped outside the door. She folded the piece of paper back into four and slipped it into her bag. She rolled her shoulders back and drew in a deep full breath. She blew the air out in a steady puff as she knocked on the door.
Feeling brave? Want to share your story? In the words of one Disney princess, Let it go, in the comments below.