The dinner trolley rattled past Maud’s cubicle without stopping.
“I’m starving,” she called out, but was ignored as usual. Everyone in this place ignored her, unless they were sticking needles in her or prodding her stomach for the millionth time.
“I’m dying!” Maud yelled. A doctor who barely looked old enough to do up his own shoelaces scuttled past, flicking her a bemused glance. “I’m not for resuscitation anyway!” Maud thought she heard a titter from the next cubicle, but perhaps she was imagining that.
“Orderly.” A little man in orange sneakers whipped her off to a ward. It smelt of overcooked food and bodily excretions. In fact, the whole place reminded her of a zoo, with the visiting hours and weird noises.
“Do I get