Once upon a pear tree heavily laden with fruit

Wherein a contingent of The London Fog rescues Fenris Badwulf from the emergency ward in Mitchieville after he was hit in the head on Sunday morning by a giant pear shaken lose from the branch by an aggressive squirrel at the Mayor's manor.

Like beggars waiting for alms, the afflicted sit with their pink papers in the waiting room of the emergency department. Taxspenders and taxpayers alike, representatives of white privilege, brown people, Womyn, many without a family doctor, glare at the person sitting across from them, sit silently staring at their feet, or turn their gaze toward the sports event flashing across the tv screen mounted in the corner. Those freshly issued a pink form send their loved ones away to more comfortable quarters. The queue is long. I feel exploited just entering the hospital.

Badwulf is contained in a ward enclosed behind sliding electric doors with a stop sign on the floor and a notice on the glass instructing potential visitors to wait for the nurse before entering. We wait, and wait, and wait, behind emergency ward applicants submitting their grievances for consideration. Finally, we slip through the doors, consult a nurse and are directed to our pear stricken friend. With bloodstained fingers, he is released into our care.

Eyes are upon us as we head toward the exit.

cp: The London Fog