Outside
it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon, the scorching early-July sun is
still high in the sky - it wont get dark 'till nearly 10PM. The
Saturday afternoon shoppers buzz like bees around the stalls in the
market place in front of The Corn Exchange, holidaymakers lounge
beneath red and white umbrellas outside picturesque pubs lazily
supping cider, ales and wine. Incensed, the locals steam behind the
steering-wheels of their cars bemoaning the permanent near-gridlocked
tailback snaking back and forth through the narrow streets from one
end of the market town to the other - a constant carnival parade of
tourists; horns sound, angry remarks rend the air, a police siren
screams irritatedly. And all this against the background of the
constant rumble of the motorway which was built far too close to the
edge of the chocolate-box hamlet.
In
here, on HER ward, all is deathly quiet, only the tap, tap, tap of
her heels on the lino and the hollow, resonant tock, tock, tock of
the wall clock she had installed - the time it gives is what SHE
calls 'hospital time'; it has nothing to do with the world at large;
'bedtime' here is when SHE says it is, when the 'night bell' rings, a
healthy dose of sedetives and sleeping pills helping to ensure sleep
comes quickly. The routine has little to do with circadian rhythms
and much more to do with staffing levels and shift patterns.
All
is neat and tidy and stripped of anything and everything not ENTIRELY
essential to the care of 'difficult' girl's in their late teens to
early twenties. Thus there are six caged beds with six plastic
chairs, one alongside each, and six enamel bedpans, one perched on
each chair. There is a desk and chair at one end forming the nurse's
station - and that's about it. There IS ONE other thing present - on
a hook on the wall behind the nurse's station hangs a slender,
wickedly pliant crook-handled cane. Under HER influence corporal
punishment has been introduced - they've given her a free hand, so
why not? Glancing up at the clock, presently showing ten thirty, she
smiles to herself. She knows that strident, insistent ticking is
driving certain of the girls to distraction, but if that encourages
certain individuals to accept the medication she is keen to
introduce, so be it
4 comments:
The expression on her face is just perfect. A pretty young woman who seems kind and gentle at first glance. Surely she is a caring soul, the sort that one can pour out one's troubles to. Perhaps even provide a shoulder to cry on in troubled times. But look closer and you detect a hint of steel behind those bright eyes. And the uniform, so crisp and white and stark, heavy with the authority of her office combined with the stance, hands carefully folded behind her back, lips not quite smiling suggest that she is already eyeing you up, wondering how loud you would howl when inevitably she will lay her cane across your bared bottom. How hard will you try to convince her that you have learned your lesson? You will be the most obedient and compliant of patients for your stern and strict nurse?
You are doing quite well in the face of internet adversity. This is strongly reminiscent of Institutionalized 3, an environment I would love to have you revisit.
I also spotted a picture on Tumblr that could almost be an illustration for one of your stories. http://diapertown.tumblr.com/image/93908026837
Vlad: That pic is from episode 5 of PENNY DREADFUL, if you're interested.
Hi Vlad!
I searched for that pic but could find nothing (entered the URL into my browser, searched Google and searched Tumblr itself - where I have another blog, if you've not seen it). If you have it saved someplace please email it to me:
toyntanen@googlemail.com
Hi Greg B!
What pray tell is PENNY DREADFUL? Is it something I should know / be interested in / excited by? I certainly find the image exciting! I think I found it on Tumblr somewhere - added the caption for my own entertainment.
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