I waited for her on a bench in a wide, open corridor, the walls decorated neatly with framed photographs of serene, majestic landscapes—they looked like they might have all been Ansel Adams prints, the sort that were often collected in glossy calendars or used as generic screen savers. This place was infinitely nicer than the other hospital, less sterile and terrifying—not the kind of place where horror movies were filmed, where people ended up murdering each other, or nurses poisoned their patients—but it was still a hospital. Patients walked around in this slow, lethargic way, their feet shuffling forward. Every so often there was a shriek and a scuffle. Security guards emerged quickly and then were gone. While I waited for my mother, a man walked toward me and for a moment I couldn’t tell if he was a patient or staff member. He had cropped salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses, but as he got closer, I could see he had something red caked on to the front of his Oxford shirt, something thick and shiny that resembled fake blood.
What do You think about The Law Of Loving Others (2014)?
