Carmen clenched her jaw and looked down.

“They’ve rescheduled for Monday. An elective valve, no big deal”, Helena added, in a much lower voice, and Carmen’s eyes looked up. Flaming brown eyes.

“It is unprofessional, and it embarrasses me in front of my staff”.

Helena sighed, heavily.

“I saw the chart on Balford…”, she said quietly, almost guiltily, “…I’m on the committee. It’s on review”.

Carmen didn’t reply. She just stared at her, bravely.

“It wasn’t your fault”, Helena murmured honestly.

“I know”.

“Then what’s the problem?”, Helena hazarded a reassuring smile, and Carmen shook her head and rubbed her forehead.

“I don’t know…”, she whispered, painfully.

Helena stepped closer and ducked her head to a side. When she spoke, her voice sounded gentle.

“We fight for people’s lives, right?”.

“Don’t you ever wonder who it is we’re fighting with?”, Carmen answered Helena’s question with a question, and Helena watched her puzzled.

Carmen stepped back and scoffed.

“So I’m crazy and chemically imbalanced”, she considered, bitterly.

Helena shook her head.

“No. You’re tired”, she stated.

“And you have moments!”, Carmen retorted, irritatingly.

Helena’s blue eyes watched the floor, then looked up again.

“Why didn’t you call me?”, she asked, quietly.

“Because I never sleep when you stay over”.

“You never sleep whether I stay over or not”, Helena smirked sympathetically.

Carmen didn’t take the hint. She just shook her head and turned around. She started walking towards her dressing room feeling empty, and nauseated.

“You’re good. You know it”, Helena’s voice reached her from behind, “Come back Monday and get back on the horse”.

”Like anyone would be
I am flattered by your fascination with me
Like any hot-blooded woman
I have simply wanted an object to crave
But you, you’re not allowed
You’re uninvited
An unfortunate slight…”

**

Shane tossed her head back, slowly, and closed her eyes. She inhaled and exhaled, trying to figure out what kind of scent the library had. She had no idea. She had no idea of the true, realistic meaning of the terms “sense of smell” or “touch”.

So, she opened her eyes and turned her head to the left, and then to the right, observing the people bent over their books, listening to their thoughts.

In the library, people didn’t think. They would read. And Shane, who didn’t have the chance to pick a book from a shelter and read it on her own, would glance at the written pages, and would listen to the words that were spoken into the readers’ minds, and would dream.