Semi-Daily Scribbles

Maude sat in the stuffy broom closet and listened to the conversation out in the hallway. She cracked the door ever so slightly to watch the action unfold. Clyde and Emma stopped talking. They were locked in a silent showdown. Their toes and noses touched, but it didn't look like a tender, intimate moment to Maude. Clyde and Emma were purple in the face, and Maude wondered if their respiratory systems had shut down. As she watched in silence, eerie silence, Maude brought her hand up to her face to smother a snort. She'd forgotten to breathe. Clyde and Emma turned toward the broom closet. The slap-thwap of snapped roundwound strings filled the hospital corridor. The sound was loud and made Maude jump backwards into a mop bucket. Not before, however, she saw her colleagues' bodies twist violently to the side, while their heads remained in profile, nose-to-nose. Clyde and Emma shuffled in unison toward Maude's hideout. She fumbled behind her in the dark for anything pointed and sharp.