Nurse Mel-Mel, as Melinda Marks was occasionally referred to as by children staying on the ward, entered the nurses station with the trifold piece of paper in hand. Something about it made her feel dirty, as if she were stealing secrets. But she knew the night nurse would have simply thrown it away for garbage had she left it. And the way it was addressed…

- “To any curious party”

She certainly was that.

After making double sure that the nurses station was empty around her and that no other patients needed her desperately of course, she peeled open the letter.

The words inside were scribbles, rough to read from the kindest of angles. She gave it her best.

- Yes, you there! Love to see curious folk with initiative. Hopefully you’re someone who likes me. Or hates me.—

A crudely scribed laughing face worked as a paragraph break.

- you see? My doctor, dear old man Efagian, said I’m terminal. Like that damn Tom Hanks movie. I’m done for. But they’re not sure I’m fit to make decisions. And I’ve no family to sign anything for me. Writing this with my teeth isn’t easy so pay attention.

The window near my bed opens, I’ve seen it. I want to go out with the wind on my face, not collecting bed sores.

Get me?-

It took her a minute then her eyes widened.

- if you aren’t willing to, let’s say, carry me, consider just opening the window. I’ve got one more walk in me.

Thank you,

Mr. Jacob Timmits -

Nurse Mel-Mel froze, unsure whether to report it or go give him a hug.

Then again… in his position… could she really blame him?

Yes, but she got it. And she wasn’t about to lose her job for manslaughter.