Saturday, April 26, 2008

Ethnography/ Creative Writing

I walk through the hospital, an already sterile, cold, uninviting environment. I see the glances I receive from people as I pass.

She’s so young…

What’s wrong with her?

The gauze around my arm covering the fresh wound from where blood has been drawn, the only signal that something is remotely wrong.

Otherwise I look perfectly healthy.

And this experience makes me come full circle. I want to drop to the floor and cry, right there.

But how do you express emotion inside these disconsolate walls?

And if you do, will it matter to anyone?

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