Heavy rain outside has no effect in here.

Seeking a friend, they look away from ill strangers.

The beautiful bouquet might endanger his health.

It’s not the bedpan so much as the loss of privacy.

Uneasy dad asks football scores: the four young men don’t know them.

After jokes fail, silence as white as the room itself.

The feverish patient marvels at a tiny toy fire truck.

Is one’s final Christmas therefore precious or trivial?

Hope is now a matter of perpetually deferred despair.