The Wistful Show
The discharge summary lay on the stainless-steel tray, the ink smudged where Mara’s thumb had pressed down in frustration, the words *palliative care only* stark against the white paper, a bureaucratic finality that felt like a slap across the face of her own body. She read it again, the fluorescent lights humming a low, sick note in the back of her skull, the smell of antiseptic and wet wool...
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