Lana's Sister
I stood paralyzed in front of the automatic doors, watching them open and close under the fluorescent lights. I could see outside and although the rain had stopped, every taxi that passed made an unmistakable SWISH beneath its tires. I lingered in the waiting room’s lobby, watching those doors for at least two ambulances; pulling up and unloading their unlucky cargo. I finally took the twenty steps to the other side of the doors, black garbage bag in hand. The thick dampness of the evening air prompted a deep inhale, but all I could smell was the devastating aroma of spring lightning ozone, blooming with anger and utter despair.
