GREEN

 

 

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.

Voices.

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.

THE GREEN BECKONS

 

The hallway waits.

It beckons.

It calls to me.

Green lights the way.

Doors open and close.

Cries fill the air.

A coldness descends.

Then total silence.

I inch forward.

Step by painstaking step.

I peer into a room.

A bed in an empty room.

The next room holds a wheelchair.

It turns.

Empty.

A green light glows.

From the room ahead.

Sounds of voices.

I move closer.

Until I can see inside.

Surgery is being performed.

On a skeleton.

By smiling people.

People who fade in and out.

Ghosts.

Time for me to leave.

I’m on the bed.

The ghost are looking down.

At me.

Too late.