My short story, A Place with No One, Part III

The water, dripping from my hair on to my feet and floor; forminged into tiny water pools puddles. My feet looked like the feet those of a giant’s.

I did my internship in the at a hospital for a year back to in China. In the last month of my internship, he was the patience of a patient in Ward No.11. He had traumatic brain injury from a car accident. He could not move or speak. I was afraid of him. He always followed every of all my movements by with his eyes. You know he could can understand you. You saw see it from in his eyes. Losing one’s The inability to talk and move was are unspeakably horrifying to me. It was is like a living soul trapped in a dead body. How could can he get be connected to the other people? The His only connection was is to himself; all is private and all sealed in awareness. Even with language, expressions and other things, how tight the connection could be? Can't decipher this sentence.  Too many possibilities to go.  His younger brother would push him around in a wheelchair, and sometimes, just left leaving him on the porch. He lounged; basking in the sun. When I walked by, he would follow me with the same staring stares, no expressionlesss, no feelings of any kind. , It is as if his heart was is a desert place with no one.

After five days, Leon called. We never mentioned him in our last conversation. He spent the weekends in Bordeaux with a friend. The weather was chilly and damp, no better than it was in Paris. He asked about my work. I told him about the child with the femur fracture.  He could can now get off from the bed  now, and the others are still were all in a slow recovery. I told him I had a dream. In the dream, I became was a raven at last. He laughed. He said he could not believe it that had only been three weeks had passed since he left we were apart and he misses me. I told him that I missed him too.

Outside of the window, a black bird perched on a wire, combing its wing feathers on its wing. It looked similar to the one in my dream I became of.

Five to ten At Five to ten in the morning, a.m. I got off the car. Mrs. Brown answered the door immediately. “I forgot to call you. Sorry dear, that I made to make you come all your way down.” She seemed to be waiting for me to get in. I stood still didn’t move. I was ready for the bad news.

“Mr. Brown had a fever again. They sent him to the intense-care unit in at St. Martin’s. They said he might may not be able to make it this time. ”

I didn’t know was quiet, not knowing what to say. Like in many cases, Mr. Brown was deterioratinged fast, unable to resistibly by the frequent infections till the last of his last days. I felt really sorry. Mrs. Brown put his hand on my arm. “I know. I'm am ready for quite awhile nowthis long time ago. I thought knew he wouldn’t make it when he got pneumonia strick him. And after it He had become like that, all feeble and barely could keep himself awake. It was too wearying for me too to keep the my hopes up.