Stacy didn’t even remember to complain about her neighbors’ haphazard tossing of their dirty laundry so near the entrance to her flat.
She forgot to look away as she saw a little boy excreting into a black plastic bag, which no doubt, would later be tossed on top of the landfill accumulating steadily at one end of the street, making a bad smell worse.
She didn’t even bother to caution the young(ish) mother who watched idly by as her naked toddler sons and daughter played on the rocky ground. Her brother was home. Nothing else mattered.
Upon coming into the house, she checked to see that the food had been eaten sparingly. That was good, he still had some consideration for others. He needn’t have bothered, but it was good that he did.
Peeping into the other, unoccupied room in her self-contained, she let a shriek burst forth, starling him out of his music induced trance. Nwike looked lovingly at his big sister. Orphaned from a young age, he’d been under her ten-year older care for 9 years. She’d turned down at least two marriage proposals because the intendeds’ had refused to take him into their houses. She’d loved him, struggled to take care of him and when he’d decided to a medical doctor, she’d sold their parents’ house, which she’d been sole owner of, to finance it. He owed her a debt he could probably not repay.
After a second dinner, he responded to the eagerness that tensed up her body and related stories from the ward. He told her humorous stories; of the woman whose husband fainted when she delivered triplets, sad stories: of the patients who died, of patients with failing kidneys whose relatives could not afford dialysis and finally, because it had been weighing on his mind, he told her the story of the time a doctor misdiagnosed a patient who eventually died. He told her that he’d studied ahead and was completely certain that the patient had been misdiagnosed. He kept up a steady stream of chatter, trying not to notice the hurt, contemplative look on his sister’s face.
Stacy rose up a very short while later, abruptly ending the conversation. She would talk to her brother normally the next day. But right then, she needed space from him to forgive him the blood dripping down his fingers.
It has been a while since I wrote a fiction post. This is a stand alone, don’t go asking for sequels. There are none.
But I do want to know, what would motivate someone who knew a superior was wrong on a matter which could cause a fatal accident not to persuade the patient to seek a second opinion or at least take it up privately with the person in question? Do you know what could be the motivation? I’ll love to read your comments.
- http://narrative.ly/the-women-in-my-family-had-to-be-good-with-money/- I felt so many emotions reading this post.
- Storm and Silence- Rob Thier. This book made me laugh so incredibly much, I thought about doing an Instagram post on it. The beginning sentences seem awkward and not very interesting but keep on until the third paragraph. The laughter will come. I promise.
- Playing by the Rules- Brandon Wong. A full course meal. I really like this book. I’ve read it 3 times so far.
Have a Happy Saturday/Sunday/Weekday you guys!