The Inquisitor
“The roof of Eight West, St. Paul's Hospital, Buffalo, New York Jane Simmons sat at the picnic table, sipping a beer as she chatted with the other ER nurses. A silver medal for the ER team's closer-than-usual second-place finish behind Father Jimmy clinked against the neck of the bottle.
The so-called wind-up party, well into its fifth hour, had lasted six times longer than the race itself, and a hundred or so others still hadn't gone home. Everyone seemed glad to hang out where they could s...ee one another's faces again. But the reason she'd stuck around stood on the other side of the dance floor among a group of residents, too many of them women.
Thomas Biggs leaned against a picnic table, his arms folded across his chest, laughing easily and listening more than talking.
She felt jealous, and hated herself for it. When he eventually came to the makeshift bar, a long cafeteria table laden with drinks in buckets of ice, she walked over to greet him.MoreLess
The so-called wind-up party, well into its fifth hour, had lasted six times longer than the race itself, and a hundred or so others still hadn't gone home. Everyone seemed glad to hang out where they could s...ee one another's faces again. But the reason she'd stuck around stood on the other side of the dance floor among a group of residents, too many of them women.
Thomas Biggs leaned against a picnic table, his arms folded across his chest, laughing easily and listening more than talking.
She felt jealous, and hated herself for it. When he eventually came to the makeshift bar, a long cafeteria table laden with drinks in buckets of ice, she walked over to greet him.MoreLess
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