Laura Ganis

A Little Help, A Lot of Love

I’m standing in the dark corridor, hesitating, swaying slightly on the spot as I think. There’s a soft, muffled bleep repeating in the distance and the hum of a floor sweeper outside. It’s 2am. The light rain tapping against the window at the end of the corridor blurs the cityscape into refracted fragments of orange, yellow, green, and red. A burst of blue signals the arrival of yet another ambulance in the docking bay below.