Phobia

We live in a town with one hospital. Everything is run by the nurses. The nurses. Gray haired women wearing brown world war 2 gas masks. Each one walking with a limp because of bruised calfs that are one the verge of falling off. They wear dirty aprons that cover their thin ribs that have wounds so deep that you can see the muscle. They roam the town like zombies, giving people demands by groaning and tilting their heads. We're not afraid of them. We're not allowed to be. The nurses may control the town, but they don't control me. They think we can't escape, but the nurses don't know what's coming.