Unexpected elegance - 2/25

I guess I should be more imaginative when interpreting notions provided by cookies. It had said elegant surroundings will soon be yours. Isn't that what the fortune said?

I didn't think it would turn out quite like this. Not that I gave fate as related by sweets much credence.

My initial guess had been some kind of beautiful house that I'd inherit from some mysterious relative. I'd be their only kin and they'd leave all their wealth and opulence to me.

Not quite.

Maybe I'd find some amazing deal on some shirt or dress. I could buy it for a steal and then walk away with it for mere pennies when it would be worth so much more.

Yeah, that wasn't what the cookie meant either.

Maybe it meant that Brian was going to take me somewhere I could finally wear that little black dress that had been hanging in my closet for months. There could be candles, waiters that heated your food if you left the table, real musicians playing in the background and lighting that highlighted rich decor but left you feeling like you were the only table in the place.

No such luck. None of that was in my future, but I mused enough on it to get into a wreck.

It had been dark when I was driving home and my stomach was full. That meant I was drowsy and prone to drifted off into my own little world where I was surrounded by the very best. But I guess, here, I was.

The doctors all wore those crisp white lab coats that you think only exist in the daily soaps. Everything around me was clean and a sweet scent of disinfection wafted in the air. The glass walls of my room were spotless and soft greens of my blanket and blue of my gown both broke the harshness of the quietly beeping medical equipment. There were tubes running into my arms and a pint of red blood dangled over my head.

A smiling nurse came in and took my temperature and gave me some pain killers. I don't remember there being any pain but I wasn't about to turn the woman away. She seemed too happy to be doing her job and I didn't want to throw her day off by being difficult.

So I lay there, snuggled in warm blankets, my body hovering in a haze of medical induced relaxation and watched the busy figures outside the pristine walls. They walked down the corridors as if they were doing some strange dance that everyone in the hospital knew. They weaved in and out, talking, exchanging files, moving in new patients, as if they had practiced it all before. They just needed a sound track to make it really complete.

The idea made me laugh. I closed my eyes, sank into the pillows and stretched out, surrounded by the highest quality of medical equipment and personnel that my health care could provide.