The Purple Patch - Missouri Valley College

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that I don’t have to think about it. I take a deep breath to calm my jittery nerves and fill my lungs with the crisp air before I enter. As soon as I open the door, I am hit with the smell of bleach and cleaning chemicals. The scent burns my nostrils and I blink hard to keep my eyes from watering. I know if I inhale deeply I am sure to choke. I notice the place is designed as a star. The nurses’ station is the center and each leg leads to a hall of discarded people. All eyes are glaring at me and not one nurse cracks a smile. My heart races and my palms are full of sweat as I ask the bulky, red-haired nurse where the patient resides. Her subordinates stop working to listen in. With one snarl and a wave of her hand, they disperse. She locks her dark brown eyes into mine, sending chills through my body. She looms over me as she forces a map into my hand and shoves me in the right direction. I feel her eyes burning into my back. I am a frightened tiny mouse trapped in a corner by the ferocious saber-toothed cat. I gaze down the long hallway to flee. The fluorescent lights that hang above me are so bright I have to squint. A cold breeze wraps itself around me and I take the first step down the hall. Timidly, I crane my neck and peer into rooms. The shades are drawn and darkness has taken over, the sound of artificial breathing spreads throughout the hall, and then I see the silver number 103. My imagination is reeling with all that will befall me once I enter. My heart pounds so hard I think it may explode. I step in. This cell belongs to an eighty-year-old woman, who is no longer a human but a shell. Her arthritic body is twisted. Her glassy gray eyes look straight through me. She eats the baby-like food when commanded, drinks when the straw is forced to her lips, and swallows the pills. This 30
is the life that this devoted mother is given after her children decide she is a burden. I stammer and trip over my own feet trying to leave. The horror I imagined was nothing compared to the reality. Tears stream down my face as I run past the red-haired nurse, out the door, and into the safety of my white Chevrolet Aveo. With one last glimpse back I realize that society’s empathy is dead. 31 “Flag” by Geneva Looney
Page 3 and 4: The Purple Patch A Literature and A
Page 5 and 6: Letter from the Editor . . . As thi
Page 7 and 8: Artwork “Top O De Duomo” by Car
Page 9 and 10: Undressing Layers slowly come off,
Page 11 and 12: Falling in Love My name is Humpty D
Page 13 and 14: Ironic Ironic isn’t it. That I ge
Page 15 and 16: Knowing we’re already the same Sc
Page 17 and 18: above. Minutes later I discovered t
Page 19 and 20: pointing because a slot fish is bet
Page 21 and 22: ank, tossing our lures at every obs
Page 23 and 24: With the trials of proper manhood s
Page 25 and 26: Beauty in the Sonoran by Sydney M.
Page 27 and 28: in decadent white, pink, and yellow
Page 29 and 30: memories are like old friends that
Page 31: Disposable Generation by Jessica Ma
Page 35 and 36: saying, but you know he is listenin
Page 37 and 38: Browning Road by Blake Studer I cat
Page 39 and 40: There and Back by Jessica Manjarrez
Page 41 and 42: longer in this place and escape com
Page 43 and 44: Everyone I knew was dying before my
Page 45 and 46: live among us as equals. Instead, h
Page 47 and 48: “Thank you Dave,” was his answe
Page 49 and 50: oom. He thought she had forgotten o
Page 51 and 52: tary, “I’ve got a Mr. Paul Jens
Page 53 and 54: Norton files down yet.” Deliberat
Page 55 and 56: also have all utilities suspended f
Page 57 and 58: My Own Province by Timothy Johnson
Page 59 and 60: adorns a spider web with vivid hues
Page 61: A Single Word and A Promise by Jess

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