“She’s been scribbling away on a sheet of paper she’s been hiding from us for three days now, Doctor, and even after I take the pencil away from her, she finds another somewhere,” Nurse Cindy Nichols said.
Dr. Warren Fulbert tapped away at his tablet, scanning Eloise Silverman’s charts for the recent history of her latest regime of medications, therapies, diet and behavioral analyses and said, “Everything seems the same as it’s been since she was committed before her trial, Cindy, so get her a crayon, five milligrams of Haloperidol IM, and let’s keep a close eye on her so she doesn’t hurt herself or cut up someone else’s…oh, and bring me that drawing or whatever it is.”
“She’s due for group in a few minutes, so we’ll flip the room and get her a new sheet of paper and crayon while she’s down in therapy,” Nurse Nichols said.
After rounds, Dr. Fulbert returned to his office, where he found a gray sheet of paper on his desk with a sticky note from Cindy Nichols.
That’s when Fulbert looked closer at the paper and realized it wasn’t gray, but rather was covered edge to edge in the same sentence, written hundreds and hundreds of times, one atop the other, that said, My darling Peter, why won’t you come?
A mashup five-sentence fiction based on Lillie McFerrin’s prompt word, MARRIAGE. I tossed in a dash of the tale of Héloïse and Abélard and a splash of inspiration from that photo up there of a letter written in 1909 by Emma Hauck to her husband while she was in a psychiatric hospital.