| PICTURE GOES HERE |
| Bam! The wheelchair slams
into reception desk. Gertrude backs up a few yards and wheels forward fast
just to hear the satisfying noise again. |
| June Frior, the nursing attendant
on duty, shakes her head. "Gertrude, stop that commotion now. And whose
wheelchair did you steal today?" |
| Smirking a bit, Gertrude doesn't
bother answering. But with the grace of aging royalty, she rises carefully
from the wheelchair and walks slowly, slowly towards the dining room. At
one point she pauses. A tiny pocket of gas rises up her esophagus, hesitates
at the back of her throat, and pops forth somewhere between a burp and
a hiccup. |
| Burp, Gertrude decides.
She says the word aloud a few times. "Burp, burp." Then takes enormous
pleasure in releasing a second one just as an attendant passes by. |
|
