She smiled at me. Her lips were moving but I couldn't hear anything. She came a bit closer and I saw a blue scrub shirt instead of her face. She was a nurse. I tried to gather what happened but my mind was blank. The nurse left me.I saw another face. A middle-aged man in green scrub shirt and matching pants come over to me with the nurse behind him. He had the stethoscope hanging around his neck. He smiled at me and moved his lips, yet I still couldn't hear anything. He turned around and seemed to be talking with the nurse for a moment before coming closer to me. He flipped my eyelids, pulled my ears, and pressed his hands on various parts of my body. He was killing me. It hurt like hell when he had his hand or fingers on my already limp and pain-wracked body.I started to remember what happened. I was driving Brenda home and a car hit us. Where was Brenda now? I tried to ask, but instead of making a sound, a terrible burning spread from my throat. I coughed. The nurse came over and. She hurried from the chamber and spat his vile excretion into a decorative urn. At eighteen years of age, she had become used to the treatment of her various tormentors in the form of owners.Unseen, a veiling curtain swished silently as the observer of the sad tableau retreated into the darkness.Miriam's short life had been a sad indictment of modern times. Her Mother and Father had lived in the poorer section of Judea. His business as a sandal maker, hardly fed them while her mother's laundry went to repaying a loan to Uncle Joshua. Just after her eighth birthday, her mother had died suddenly. Faced with ruin and trying to keep three mouths fed, clothed and housed. Her father came to what he considered the obvious solution. Miriam, being a daughter, was sold to her Uncle as a housemaid and full repayment for the longstanding debt. Her two brothers stayed with her Dad who moved away to another village. They lost touch very quickly.Uncle Joshua didn't really need a housemaid, but her.
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