Written in consideration for: CITY SMELLS ' Bridge Odor Troubled Waters
Words: 642

VERA

Vera calls out that she has to use the washroom.
I sink further into the couch, surreptitiously note taking as Capo rolls down the hall. I watch him from under the brim of my hat and sink deeper in the sofa, feeling rather like Sigourney Weaver in Gorillas. I hear myself internally narrating his action as my ball point flows across the terrain, mapping the seconds of what is now his life: Self ambulation toward independently selected target = no prompt. C implements railing utilizing left hand propulsion/left leg assistance, heel/toe with knee/ankle flexion. C minimizes pelvic thrust/left scapular pressure = forward thrusting slide diminished. C self adjust positioning = pause with placement of left foot flat to floor/left hand supported prop implementing chair's arm rest.
Stimulus = tertiary client distress.
'NURSE'�'� Vera calls out again and percolates another fart.
It smells disgusting and experience says she's urgent. Protocol above all: I maintain my camouflage, absorb myself in my notes and watch Capo roll slowly towards his room. I am only allowed to watch him and I may never intervene on The Collective's respective task; the fact that I can and will, if only I could remains irrelevant.
Capo sings off key and for himself. I know this because I've heard this and it's the only thing to smile about in this place, 'Only you! Can make my dreams come true'�when you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do'�'�
Vera calls out that she needs a B.M. 'NURSE, please'�nurse'�'�
She's speaking to me but I pretend that I can't hear her and absorb the pregnant presence of The Silent Majority. They look toward her and then me; one nods knowingly, she knows what I'm here for and doesn't judge. She knows that I'm as helpless as her and we all get it so'�back to the television, where dulcet tones soak us in folklore, recalling a sultry day when murder called on a jasmine scented sleepy, Georgia suburb.
''�When you hold my hand I understand the magic that you do, you're my dream come true'�'�
C sings Only You. Indication = release, ambulation maintains'�consistent.
Vera's voice strains like violins pleading to use the washroom and now we all look to The Collective who now pretend to look like what they're doing is the most important thing in the world when another report punctuates the resonating flavor of the former.
The Collective scatter like crows through Nietzsche's culture and Vera voids her bowel explosively and violently.
The offal overwhelms me and I endeavor not to gag out loud.
The essence evolves and coats my teeth, lining my mouth and I can no longer hide my disgust.
''�hold my hand; I'm a stranger in paradise'�oh, lost in a wonderland. A stranger in paradise'�'�
I stand and gather my things attempting to breathe through my ears.
I hear Vera moan, and then I hear Vera's sob and I am immediately bathed in a deluge of shame for being disgusted by her in her hubris.
I feel as though I should be grateful to smell her emissions despite my ability and options of egress because I know that someday, someone else will be me and I will be she; sitting disregarded to wallow in my waste, saturated in shit; abandoned and befouled and reeking for my humanity.
Without her I have no purpose because my bread is made on the meat of her carcass and I am aware that someday someone will compell my diginity to beg, and someone else will bear witness to my surrender to shame.
Someday I will know that someone else feels this way and I too will be left because I disgusted them and I will come back to this moment and will know there was nothing else to do.
'I'm sorry Vera.'� I whisper as I walk away.

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