He'll Go On

The hospital smelt of death, disinfectant and fish pie, all enforcing a mental state, grief, loneliness and nausea. We made are way around the place a maze of white green striped walls, wrong and lonely elevators. Clean hands.
Curtain drawn - wax like bloated yellow unresponsive which seems appropriate him being in coma. Family in tears. I stood cold transfixed not knowing what to say to a man cocooned in a coil tangle of a cold cryptic machine coma. Five minutes later I left. I couldn't bare it.