Three little Mexican girls in frilly white dresses run up and down the hallway in their sock feet, trilling in delight. They slide on the shiny linoleum floors laid out like a checker board, sail past crash carts and drinking fountains with black hair flying, skirts billowing, and ribbon sashes floating behind. Pink rose petals drift like dust motes in their wake. Once the medication wears off, the nurses return. They walk silently in their cushioned white shoes.
Published in Thunderclap! Magazine, Femme Fatale issue (No. 3), Sept 2010 • Flash Fiction