FUCK!

3. JONA AND MARVIN

"She lives," Sharcomments as she sips her coffee from the other end of the kitchen island as I walk into the kitchen, "late night?"

"What?"

"Yeah," she smiles, "we've all been there. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"Shar, I was with Leo."

"Ow, leeching again weren't we? How much did you suck up this time?"

"Not even enough for temporary happiness," I say while circling around the small, kitchen island of our small two-bedroom apartment to pour some coffee, "Do you wanna grab a drink with us after work? The rest are going to a pub and they've invited us"

"Are you going to pay with daddy's money?" she asks laughing.

"Get your own daddy's money," I sniffle, "and anyway it's money to fix my car. Get you to shut your trap for a bit."

"Wh- you know my dad's dead, right?"

"Yeah I know. What's the difference with mine?"

She stops walking out of the kitchen and shrugs, "You can still use yours for money."

"Shar are you coming out with us or not?"

"No thanks. If they're not busy being disgusting, then they are busy being boring. If you were not still in love with Tim, I doubt you'd still hang out with them," she says, "I'm going to read my book and drink wine."

As usual, I take the local train to work. My shift doesn't normally start until 9 am so the carriages are not usually full as everyone trodes onto the 6am train trying to make it for that 8-5 job. I rather enjoy the peace and quiet of everything in the morning, its only at night when I have to be rather careful on who climbs off the train with me and who walks behind me on my way to the apartment.

"Martha, just one more spoon?" I beg.

The 83-year-old former pilot sighs and opens her mouth, "Ahhh."

I feed her the bean curry soup and scoop another spoonful, but she stops chewing and stares at me, "Another one please?" I ask with a smile.

"You said, one," she says, "and this stuff tastes disgusting you know. Smells like those fucking small markets they'd put up on Saturdays back in the day."

"They still do and it's just the spices, Martha. So just a few more spoons?"

"A few. One. You want me to eat the whole bloody thing don't ya," she says pushing the bowl of soup away from her face.

I sigh, slightly frustrated, "Well, if you don't eat at least half of this fucking soup, I'm going to ask Kenneth there for a dance at the Annual ball," I point at the other end of the room, where the other nurse is feeding an elderly man.

"Fine," she opens her mouth and I feed her another spoonful of soup.

"Good," I say wiping her mouth, "I don't need you fainting while dancing with Kenneth at the dance."

Work goes on as usual. One of the male patients got a severe heart attack and had to be taken to the main general hospital. Gave the other elderly something to talk about. The normal visitors came, talked to their family members, laughed, introduced new family members, and left. It was a normal day.
By the end of the day, my feet have developed new blisters in places where I never knew they could. Given its a long day and I was only able to get off work an hour late, I go straight to the pub and because punctuality is not given when choosing friends, I end up waiting more than 30 minutes for everyone as they all stride in one by one. Dreading not having gone straight to the flat and taking a shower.