From my latest WIP, Nineteen Stories
Half an hour later I had somehow gotten to the hospital without moving. Mark was in the emergency room, Liam was talking on his phone -no, my phone- somewhere down the hall. And I was just sitting there, stiffer than the cold plastic of the chair. My hands were folded awkwardly in my lap and my eyes stared at them. A chill rushed down my spine when I recognize the tiles under my feet. I’m almost one hundred percent sure this is the exact same seat I sat in last time I was here.
“Hey,” Liam said, plopping down into the spot next to me. He held my phone out to me. One of my hands reached out and took it, then returns to its position in my lap. “I called your brother. He freaked out, of course, but once I told him what the doctors said about everything working out fine he kind of calmed down. Anyway, he’s coming as fast as he can.”
My brain is on autopilot. I nodded and wrapped my fingers tighter around the cool metal of my cell.
Liam held out a small muffin wrapped in clear plastic film. “I got you something at the cafeteria. Thought the stress might have made you hungry.”
When did he go to the cafeteria? When did he get my phone? Is there anything else that I missed, sitting right here with my eyes wide shut?