In the Radiology Waiting Room I investigate the insides of plexi-glass boxes hanging on the walls. Animal guts are stretched to look like skin: a book, a boat, a map, and a pair of painted blue and gold, molded hollow hands. Surgical gloves? All of them shaped from former sheep. No patients in the waiting room look up; their heads bend to screens or last month’s magazines. X-rays may offer hope. A woman hunched in her wheelchair eyes me sideways as I photograph and scribble notes hidden in the glove’s wrinkled palms. A few inked entreaties--lend a hand, my time is at hand--I think: In case of emergency, break glass. Grab the gloves, crack the wall of dull air, the patient silence, slip them onto my hands. Touch the woman waiting. Suzanne E. Edison Suzanne's work appears, among other places, in: her chapbook, The Moth Eaten World, Finishing Line Press, 2014; Spillway; Crab Creek Review; The Healing Art of Writing, Vol. 1; The Examined Life Journal; Face to Face: Women Writers on Faith, Mysticism and Awakening, and www.literarymama.com.
1 Comment
eileen cleary
5/11/2017 09:28:21 am
Beautiful piece
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