Ascension

Placing a small adhesive bandage over the cotton patch, the nurse turned her back to Liza and marked the blood-filled vial. “That is all now. Please wait in the lobby. We will have the results…” Liza stood, peeled her sleeve down her arm before the android could finish, grabbed her purse, and walked out the door. The hall smelt of antiseptic. Grubby streaks left by heavy traffic lined the lower part of the otherwise pristine white-painted walls.

Her mind went fuzzy for a few seconds. Bright florescent lights overhead dotted her glossy eyes. Suddenly, the corridor felt like it was getting longer, stretching out in front of her. She tightened her grip on the bag clutched under her arm and quickened her step. Almost skipping, she sped past the check-in counter as a young male receptionist stood. He said something. Waving his arm, he tried to get her attention. But she was off, racing through the packed waiting room. Worried eyes, terrified eyes, wet eyes—all watched her, knowing their turn was soon to come. Her throat closed in, holding back tears as she ran through the double glass doors, past the chanting crowd outside. “Stop the culling,” the protestors sang repeatedly from behind chipped and worn cement barriers. Her eyes avoided them.

She fumbled in her purse while dodging through rows of vehicles. Finding her transport key, she pressed it tightly in her hand, alerting the car of her speedy approach. Pulling on the handle, the hatch opened readily, and she jumped inside, quickly closing the door behind her. The demonstrators’ voices softened. Not gone, mind you. But tolerable. Like a fading headache.