//------------------------------// // Nurse Redheart -- Shift After Boring Shift // Story: The Album // by Peregrine Caged //------------------------------// Written by: Mendoza Rated Everyone Tick... Tick... Tick... The Thursday morning wore on in the dullest way possible. The gray, overcast sky oozed through the waiting room windows to match the colourless mood inside. The weather patrol couldn’t seem to make up their minds. Much of the week had been one standard sunny day after another, but twenty-minute rain showers peppered each afternoon. The townsfolk were beginning to speculate about a possible management feud, or simply somepony garbling each order. Or maybe it was somepony trying to liven up the week of the local nurse with nary a patient nor paperwork to occupy her. Nurse Redheart, having dismissed simply bumping the clock’s hands forward to knock off early, resigned herself to pondering life’s great mysteries from behind the clinic’s admitting desk. If today’s condition was any indicator, her weather team hero had been sacked; hooray for a cloudy day. Tick... Tick... Tick... Tock said the plastic circle above the glass double-doors. “Seven,” she groggily read aloud from her stool. “Just another hour.” She flicked a pale pink lock of hair from her face and rubbed her eyes. The purple rings beneath them displaying the 12-hour shifts of her profession. The hours themselves weren’t what plagued her, but the sheer lack of anything on days like today; a day when everypony was being healthy and un-idiotic. This was setting up to be the safest week on record for the year; something for which Mayor Mare would undoubtedly take credit in her next election. Of course, she’d leave out the weeks when the hospital would have a severe influx of patients for its staff to treat. Nope, must be her inspirational speeches keeping everypony from pulling muscles, contracting disease, breaking bones, and the patience of the hospital staff. The only pony requiring actual treatment was one pegasus who came in around five hours ago with a concussion. At least his misfortune had broken up the monotony of the morning. What did he say had happened to him? thought the enervated nurse as she flipped through his admission forms. “Struck by lamp post.” Must have just jumped out at him. She thought, looking at his BAC of 0.092. But at least he tried to lighten the mood with the obligatory “Helloooo Nurse!” Although in his case it was more “Helloooo Nurse!...es...es.” He must have been seeing more than double... This job needs more moments like that, she thought lazily with her chin resting on her pristine white hoof. An immaculate coat like hers fit perfectly for a nurse. But removing more-than-occasional stains from the various... secretions of some patients was quite the nightmarish chore. She began looking around the waiting room for something, anything, to distract her. From the humourless portrait of the hospital’s gray-maned founder to the scarce artificial plant life. A fly came buzzing under her snout. Redheart whisked it away by a puff of air. It spiraled off towards the waiting area chairs. She followed its flight path as it landed on the arm of one cushy, lime coloured chair. It leaped back into the air, quite gracefully for a fly, and began to buzz its way back towards the admitting desk. This new distractor hovered at the lone plastic daffodil seated in its vase on the corner. From there it began buzzing slow and confused circles around and around the mock-blossom. She could almost see the tiny lantern flicker to life above its buggy head. Congratulations, Redheart. You are drawing amusement from a fly discovering fake flowers, she deadpanned in her head. Though she couldn’t deny: the noise of those tiny, paper-thin wings coupled with the unrelenting Tick, Tick, Tick of the clock... It was all, somehow, soothing... The cider stands stretched from one end of Main Street to the other. Their banners hung proud above their stacks of kegs and steins. Every cider company, big and small, from Manehattan corporations to Dodge Junction bootleggers was represented here today. With, of course, the local Apple Family cider stand stationed just outside Town Hall. Nurse Redheart observed the fruits of her labours from the stage. This had been a monumental undertaking; and worth every drop of cider. There was the sound of a microphone screeching to life to Redheart’s left. A sea of ponies in the street swiveled their heads to the stage “Welcome, Everypony, to the first annual Ponyville Cider Festival!” bellowed a purple mare over the speakers. “This is the time of year to really enjoy the efforts of some of the smaller cider makers; the ones who go unnoticed and deserve their time in the delicious spotlight.” Redheart knew this feeling all too well. “And that’s why,” the excited purple mare continued, gesturing to Redheart, “I’d like to thank our dear Nurse Redheart for organizing all of this! Come take a bow, Nurse!” “Redheart! Redheart! Redheart!” everypony cheered as she trotted towards the front. She bowed her head modestly as they continued their now hazy cheering. She raised her head to bow a second time to another part of the crowd. When she tried to bring her head up a second time, she found her neck not moving. Everypony’s cheering devolved into a dull swimming sound. She found the ground before the stage slowly drawing closer and closer. Nurse Redheart felt the cold tile of the waiting room floor against her cheek. Her eyes shot open as she quickly got to her hooves. Her eyes darted frantically around the room to see if anypony had caught her asleep. The coast seemed clear for now. She picked up her hat and returned it atop her pale pink mane. Stretching as she sat back down on her stool, her eyes wandered to the clock above the door again. “7:05... Oh Celestia help me...” she sighed. “Just have to do all that another eleven times and I’m done...” And so with renewed boredom, Redheart’s gaze once again wandered from the founder’s glowering portrait to the fake daffodil. She even looked for the fly. Maybe it could sing her to sleep again. But the buzzing bard had likely given up whatever quest it had in this room and was moving on to bigger and smellier things. In its place next to the flower, however, was a brown paper bag. In front of the bag was a folded piece of paper with “Hello Nurse” written on the outside. She slid the note over in front of her and flipped it open. Thought you might like this. -That pegasus you probably wanted to re-concuss She slid the bag towards her, it felt warm. When she opened the top, she was greeted with the smell of... a muffin? A chocolate-chip muffin? And a coffee? Well now, she thought, maybe I have a new unsung pegasus hero...