Doctor Who: The Bright Asylum

Am I Blue?

“All hail the blinking blue button...” the bedraggled woman in the cast mutters in a low, mocking voice, enunciating each consonant with enough force to make her dribble spit.

The woman in white ignores her, taking out a notebook and checking a few boxes instead.

“Now Miss, your physician is on vacation, so I will just have to be your attendee for the moment all right? You’ll be happy you came here, just sit there and I’ll bring your medication.”

The dirty-blonde woman in the cast applies clean fingernails to its rough wrapping, dragging each digit down the length of the plaster, making rents.

The woman in white breathes in and breathes out again hard, hard enough to make it seem as though she may be a little frustrated. Good, good. Everything is fine. She is a nurse, this is... she is a nurse.

“It’s time to take your medication, my dear...” the nurse says flatly, whipping out a thermometer from the white, white wall and stuffing it in the casted woman’s mouth.

“Oh my, I’m afraid I’ll need to step out and call him back in...”

“And leave me to unwrap my own presents? That’s rude... ,“ says the woman in the cast, nipping like a feral dog as she applies her prominent, clean, white teeth to the strips of bandage dangling from her plastered arm. “And ‘he’s’ not my Doctor. My Doctor’s a burglar. And a magpie. A hero and a clown. But mostly an idiot. And ‘I’ am the one who labels his nuts and bolts, and cooks his turkey, and does his laundry, and looks after his strays, not a little brown mouse like you. You should run, little mouse. You and your doctor both.”

Her gold-lit eyes float over the nametag on the nurse’s uniform, reflected in the mirror, and she touches her tongue to the tips of her teeth suggestively as she reads,

“Influences, Jar.”

She laughs aloud as she stares after the nurse’s retreating form through the bars on her door.

Then she remembers a couple of rhymes, and makes a sandwich of them, calling out through the bars.

“For I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down- the better to eat you with my dear and oh look! This is me...” she growls, candid and snarling against the bars, though the nurse is long gone. So she continues her lunch, offering a bite to the one who’s still watching, curling her fingers around the steel and grinning her white teeth like lights from behind calculating, juicy lips, mongrel and plump.

“Dinner Lady.”


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