Using the Useless
It was well past midnight and the hospital department, where comatose patients lay, was sodden with silence. The hospital attendant, a young man called Simon, had just finished mopping the corridor and was now resting on a wooden couch. Born in Eastern Europe, he moved to the US a year ago, because he realized he won’t be able to raise a family with a teacher’s salary. The life was hard but he could at least pay his bills, which was very important to him. Simon didn’t like the night shifts, though there wasn’t much work then. Leisure allowed loneliness to creep in. After cleaning the toilet, Simon headed toward the balcony, intending to smoke a cigarette there. Then he noticed that the door of ward 8 was ajar. Nurses’ carelessness maybe. He knew who lay …