Stamps: Maria Hummel02/08/2009
from The Curtain
By Maria Hummel
The color of the hospital curtain changes with the light. If our neighbor by the window keeps the shade up, the cloth is a sea-green riddled with purple. If the neighbor likes it dim, purple conquers green; the hue becomes the dull mottle of a bruise just before it heals. If we have no neighbor, we push the curtain back until we can see the view of the roof. I dance with our sick baby across the space and my husband kicks off his shoes. Soon a nurse comes and tugs the curtain back into place. Incoming patient. The curtain hangs from chains. Jostle them the tiniest bit and they make the sound of ice falling on a frozen lake.
Maria Hummel likes bread and butter.