[212 words]
Purpose
Dragging the laundry basket to the washer, she saw an ant meander on the kitchen top. The ant paused now and then, sniffed here, tasted there, and continued on her criss-cross path. She thought, “This ant doesn’t even know where she is going. Purposeless critter!”
She paused along the way to water the trailing pothos, returned to keep a bowl of rice to cook, replied to a message, threw the blackened avocado in the bin, put milk in her tea, mechanically scrolled on the phone, and then began fixing the CO detector while the brimming laundry basket continued to wait quietly in the corner.
Apex Beat
It was a sultry afternoon, and wet circles showed on armpits of their white coats. She moved from one station to another, around long tables, following other students, observing various parts of the anatomy model of the heart. She finally arrived where he lay, torso bare, chosen for his reed-like body to be the specimen. Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze, and her fingers moved towards his left fifth intercostal space to meet his apex beat. Lub dub. She felt his heartbeat accelerate, and their eyes remained locked until the next student voiced impatience. She glanced away, unprepared for the physiology of his heart.
Rashmi Bhopi is a physician and a creative thinker who loves to capture moments into words when not tending to her plants and her two children. Her writing has appeared in Five Min Lit, KevinMD and New York Medical Journal.
