#i took a phys ed class in college that was literally all education
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
“Come on.”
“Uh?”
Diane looks up as Naomi stands and holds out her hand as if this isn't a ridiculously careless thing she's asking her to do, as if neither of them has the good sense to mention that neither one of them has any idea what they're getting themselves into. As if neither of them might be walking straight into a trap of their own making, or nothing much will change at all and they'll forget about each other in a month, or a few days. As if it's a risk worth taking to find out which.
As if there's anything else to do today.
“I'm not going to the hospital.”
“I know.” Naomi reaches a little closer. “I have a first aid kit at home.”
Enough to get them through, that's all. Enough for now.
“You know how to wrap it?” Diane asks as she takes Naomi's hand to pull herself up, as though the answer might change her mind somehow. Naomi smiles a little, as though she knows it just as well that it won't.
“Yeah.” She sets Diane's hand down on her shoulder. “It's not far, come on. I'll carry you down the stairs.”
“You'll drop me.”
“I will not.” Naomi urges her forward, along the concrete path out of the park. “I mean I'm just offering, I don't have to.”
It's a nice gesture, though, isn't it? It was a nice thought.
They walk slowly down the street, stepping more or less in sync past the general store with the baking supplies just past the doorway, turning at the corner to walk toward the coin laundry that's open even at three in the morning and also on holidays. A hand-drawn poster in the window of the discount shoe store across the street loudly advertises VACUUMS REFURBISHED while a Times New Roman printout on the telephone cubicle in the middle of the block offers “suitable compensation” in exchange for willing test subjects, No Questions Please; a few steps farther along stands an apartment building that somehow looks like it's missing a couple of stories, and Diane shifts her weight to her good leg as Naomi steps away to fumble with the lock on the front door.
“It's the door on the left,” Naomi says, the door sticking only slightly as she shoves it open. “When you get to the basement.”
She opens the first door on the right, a stairwell that only leads down.
“Upstairs is that door over there, but I don't know any of the neighbors, so. I'm not gonna introduce you to anyone.”
That's fine. Diane doesn't want to know any of them, either.
Naomi walks down the stairs first and doesn't try to carry her.
“Bathroom's at the end of the hall,” she says. “The taps aren't broken, the water's just cold when it's cold outside and warm when it isn't, but if you let it run for a little while, it'll...fix itself. And make sure you don't touch the water heater, it's metal and it gets really hot sometimes.”
Diane clutches the wooden banister nailed to the wall as she limps her way down and wonders how much of all this she's supposed to remember. All of it, probably. It isn't very complicated.
Naomi unlocks the door on the left and holds it open.
“You can sit on the bed.”
It's good of her to offer. It isn't much of a bed, really, more of a mattress pushed into the corner, but that isn't exactly a surprise, and it's good of her to offer all the same.
“Thanks,” Diane says, a little too late to seem quite natural. Naomi hums a disinterested acknowledgment and doesn't seem to mind.
“Take off your shoes.”
Diane promptly unties her sneakers, placing them on the floor beside the bed as Naomi kneels in front of her with a roll of ACE bandage in her hand and her eyes focused on Diane's ankle like she's the only attending physician in the entire complex who doesn't have better things to do with her time than tend to something as trivial as all this. Diane should count herself lucky the timing worked out the way that it did.
Lucky, was it? It's about time.
The single bulb in the overhead light flickers a little as if a public execution has just disrupted the power grid, or someone's turned on too many air conditioners at once and blown a fuse a few floors up.
“Don't worry about it,” Naomi says. Diane doesn't bother to assure her that she wasn't.
#anna tries to be original#i started reading something that objectively has nothing wrong with it but within about three pages had me bored out of my mind#and i started skimming it to see if it picked up or anything caught my interest later on#but i noticed that a few of the paragraphs were like thirty lines long#and i immediately noped the hell out of there#and then i was like 'you know what i should do is i should work on that story that i spend about twenty minutes on every four or five days'#i took a phys ed class in college that was literally all education#we didn't actually do any sports or anything#it was all classes and lectures and stuff#one day we went to the nurse's office or whatever you call that area on a college campus#and we learned how to wrap sprained ankles#i know i picked it up very quickly but i have absolutely no recollection of how to do it now#also yesterday i had to spend the day dealing with some incredibly idiotic coworkers#i don't even think they're necessarily stupid people but they were certainly acting like it#and first thing this morning one of the messaged me with a stupid question to follow up on all her stupid questions from yesterday#'where is this data in the file?' oh gosh i don't know have you tried spending two seconds actually LOOKING FOR IT#and someone else messaged me at the same time to ask for help with something that he's now doing completely wrong#but it's a new system and i know he's trying and i also know he is actually good at his job so i don't mind helping him#but i'm going to have to waste my afternoon in a meeting with the other idiot#and two people who DO have their shit together but i know for sure that if he has to do anything it'll add like half an hour's time#to a task that should take five minutes tops#also there's a severe weather warning for excessive heat today#i want to go out and buy some fruit before it gets too unbearable#but in order for that to happen i need these people to leave me alone for twenty minutes
2 notes
·
View notes