The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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Shortly after they met, my mom and Johnny went outside on break together and got talking. He told her that he was a carpenter. Immediately after this, my mom called her dad and told him that she was “going to be okay.” She and Johnny dated on and off for seven years before he passed away.

The emergency room was always packed the night of a full moon. It was one of those things that normal people would say is ridiculous, until they experienced it first hand.

Doreen was moving room to room, administering medicine, and checking vitals as she went. She popped her head into the next room on her list and stopped in the door, confused. A long-haired woman in a lab coat she didn’t recognize was standing beside the patient’s bed, back facing the doorway.

“Hey Felicia, “Doreen whispered, grabbing a passing nurse’s arm. “Who is that? I didn’t think we had any female docs tonight.”

Felicia poked her head in the room. “No idea. Hey, can you check one eighteen for me? They ordered a catheter on him.”

Doreen nodded, sending Felicia off with a thank you. She walked into the room, knocking once on the door.

The head of long, sleek brown hair turned toward her, revealing a thin, bearded face, one she saw over every doorway in her father’s home, and one she saw every Sunday.

“Oh, hi there. I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Johnny.”

 

Johnny

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