Day Two of Story-a-Day (after a day spent hawking my wares at a local art festival) means backstory.
Meredith got on the wrong bus. The brightest student in her graduating class, any hospital would be lucky to have her. Nursing, her family said many times, flowed in her blood.
Never had Meredith gotten on a wrong anything. She arrived to everything on time. Her work stayed in order. Nothing excused getting on the wrong bus.
But this morning Meredith poisoned her father. Meredith loved her father. He could’ve lived another twenty years but for his recent flights of fancy. He no longer talked liked the father she knew or expected. Instead, he shared his dreams of prowling in woods and howling at the moon.
The bus jostled Meredith around. She stared out the window. Flights of fancy and tall tales set her on edge. She didn’t want to know about her father’s fall from normalcy and familiarity. She could no longer abide his confusion, and she happened across the poison by accident.
It was an accident, she reassured herself. She’d never really poison a patient. No6t a real patient.
The bus stopped and Meredith stumbled off. She didn’t know where she was. No one would know where she was. She looked around. No one would find her. And any hospital would be lucky to have her. She was the best nurse in her class.