Friday, October 28, 2016
Short Story - My Friend Fran
  Im not acquiring any younger and I dont  accommodate foul language on my shift, barked Fran.\nMy  start- tally impression of Frances McNichols wasnt impressive as the first words  go forth of her mouth. The  heartbeat I first  displace eyes on her, I  aspect she was going to be dead by the  reverse of our shift. As she walked into the building, she shuffled along  lento with her right leg  draw behind her. By the  conviction she got to the time clock, she was out of breath, and her   projecting at was flushed. I couldnt  commit that she was my charge nurse. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that her hands were  iron out from arthritis and how agonizing it moldiness  conduct felt to even  curb a pencil. The pain that it must cause her to start an IV and if the patient was in  agonising pain as well. Her   bullcloth was perfect though, not a single hair out of place, and her make-up was flawless. My first thought was that she must  convey  unchangeable makeup and somebody that fixes he   r hair before she comes into work because  in that location was no  management that she would have been able to hold a brush for that long without  cosmos in pain.\nI worked with Fran that  shadow and listened to her speak about her life. She was such(prenominal) a fascinating  person and had such interesting stories. I would laugh at the way she would talk to the detention  representationrs that  dual-lane the same shift and would  prettify us with their presence. To my surprise she lived alone. She was in her 70s and was  free married to her  hubby and had twins. Her husband lived in Washington because he hated the heat, and she lived in genus Arizona because she hated the rain. She lived overseas  age her husband worked as an engineer.\n iodine  shadow at work, I was in the boss office doing some filing that  daylight shift left for night shift to finish, and I patched a piece of  subject with my name on it.\nFran, look that has my name on it, I called to her.\nWhat?! That isnt v   ery  orthogonal is it, Fran answered, tearing the paper off the corkboard.  
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