Prelude

Morning and I'm sitting inside of a ward.
It's recently been disinfected and everyone's been asked to keep from touching anything all the better for me because it is morbid, this entire debacle.
How does one keep a straight face and smile through, looking at everyone else who is talking about mundane topics and I am unable to crack as much as a sentence only because I don't know what would be appropriate to say, also because I just can't find myself feeling happy while sitting in a place so obviously doleful.

Of course the near cheerful facade hides distress and everyone here only tries to keep up appearances so as not to worry the person soon to be ushered into surgery and I'm weak company because surely were I left on my own I would depress the sense out of patients which is why I'm better as a potted plant in the background.
Nodding and agreeing.

Let this all be over soon.
Soon.