The nurse saw the little girl standing in the hallway. She was holding her mother’s hand.
“Hello, Clara! Look at you! You’re so cute in that pretty dress.”
“Thank you,” Clara said, looking down. Her feet swiveled against the tiled floor like windshield wipers. “Where’s my daddy?”
“He’s still seeing patients, but he’ll be back soon.”
Clara’s large eyes saw a clot of doctors in the arterial of the hospital ward. A few of them dislodged and floated into patient rooms.
Smiling at Clara, her mother asked, “Do you want to be a doctor like Daddy?”
Clara grimaced. “No. I don’t wanna be around sick people all the time.”
Maria Yang, MD 