The hallway waits.

It beckons.

A green light shows the way.

Closed doors on either side.

Cries fill the air.

A coldness descends.

Then total silence.

I inch forward.

I peer into a room.

A wheelchair sits empty.


I step into the hallway

and follow the sounds.

The door at the end stands open.

Surgeons stand around a table.

They turn and smile at me.

They fade from sight.

Then I’m on the table.

Doctors stand above me.

I must escape.

A scalpel descends.

Too late.