FIRE 

By Tessa Harvey

    Much to the relief of his fellow travellers, Bart followed them into the hospital entrance. He looked around, bewildered. An amazing variety of people swirled around him, almost all seeming absolutely certain of where they were meant to be going.
    He tried to follow the nurses and doctors clustered around his son, but was firmly moved back towards a waiting room where people of all ages, some with blood-stained towels held against their heads or limbs - others with bowls held in front of them, obviously nauseous.
    He turned away, disgusted and saw a nearby reception desk and asked for his wife. Vaguely annoyed, the lady did not seem to understand him. He eventually realised that she was passing him written instructions under the protective glass screen.
    It took a long time, but the farmer eventually found the correct lift and then the correct ward. He was feeling more and more disoriented and even unwell by the time he located Leanne. She was sobbing. "What did you do to our baby?" she asked, very upset.  
    Bart was taken aback. "You should be home working," he accused. That's your job."


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