There are advantages to maturity. You can, if you are clever enough, get the jobs where you spend your days in charge of others: You have to keep your wits about you, of course. Sloppy checking of work would soon ruin a position of authority. People are less likely to question you about your past, as well. Age brings with it a sense of inbuilt privacy that few would dare to breech.
You could hear her singing from two-thirds of the way down the long corridor. Sturdy, mostly soundproofed, doors decorated the walls on either side. Each was equipped with it’s own hatch, and spy-hole. From certain angles at each end, it created a strong optical illusion: like stacked dominoes. The temptation was often to stand there, half close your eyes, imagine just nudging the nearest one, and watch them all come tumbling down.
Maybe I’ve been working here too long. I don’t think the patients are getting to me but … well: I wouldn’t be the first. I must watch my thoughts more carefully: we’re supposed to refer to them as our ‘clients’, rather than patients. It won’t be for much longer anyway. In many ways I’ll be sad to leave, but another week or so and I’ll have worked out my notice: time to move on. Continue reading