Earl Jackson

Good Days

I clutched at the peeling, faux leather purse strap that draped across my chest as I traipsed down the familiar, pristine hallway of Pureheart Wellness Center. I hastened my steps, attempting to keep pace with the stout, fast moving silhouette of Nurse Jackie as she led me toward my intended destination. After about five minutes of walking, we came to a halt in front of a white door with “15” in golden numbers. Nurse Jackie turned to me with a tender expression etched in her face.