Here Have Some Music

Pssssssstttttttttttttttttttt, I've been writing again. Won't get into too much detail, since I don't want to jinx myself, but here's a snippet that I'm okay enough with sharing:

No matter how many times I go to it, I can’t ever really ever get used to visiting a hospital. I know that it serves as a symbol of health and protection, a place that the sick can go to get better while all the doctors and nurses give it their all to make their patients get better as soon as possible.

I know what it’s supposed to symbolize, but it also symbolizes another side: the sick bundled together, their sickness heavy in the air, the overworked nurses talking trash about their patients, doctors running around trying to shift their duties unto another, the smell of heavy antiseptic in the air masking all the decay in the air.

Personally, I try to avoid them at all times; if there’s no reason for me to be at one, I won’t be in the area. If it isn’t the bland shades of egg white plastered over every inch of the walls and ceilings, the forever chill in every space inside, how slow time seems to move while waiting for anything, and the smell…the smell. I shuddered. It’s always way too clean and unnerving for me.

The last time I was here, I had to watch as my mother decayed into a husk each passing minute. The last time I was here, she was still alive.

The sound of a door closing got me out of that thought. I looked up and saw a mare with a curly brown mane enter the room. Although she wasn’t wearing the “traditional” garb of a doctor, her grey-blue blouse was without a wrinkle in sight, her black slacks were freshly ironed, her gray-white coat seemed to illuminate the space, and her mane was perfectly combed to the side. An amber aura brought up a pair of glasses up to her eyes as she looked down at her clipboard before looking up at me. “Are you Mezzaluna?” she asked me.