The knock at their door was so soft that at first Andrew thought it was his imagination. Simpleton and he were playing gin. They had discovered they had about the same level of skill, so the games were interesting. It was twilight, and outside rain fell in torrents against the window, creating a slight roar that did nothing to drown out the sound of the gurneys and slamming doors. They played mostly in silence. Sometimes one of them would try to say something funny, but there was little laughter. Nothing could relieve the tension created from the noise in the hallway. Would someone be gone tomorrow? Or would someone just be “different”?
It was the same every night. They would play games or talk as the noises continued. Sometimes they heard laughter, but usually it was crying or
