Things hurt sometimes.

Soda Machine
'I want to know what he said.' He affirmed.
'It's not important.' Her answer was short, and her eyes cold.
'Have you been here for long?'
'I was here before you.'
'I can't imagine next year, what will we do on august the seventh?'
She wiped his face with a dirty napkin. 'Just be strong for Meghan, she is coming soon. The damn school didn't want to let her out early. I had to get Allan to go get her, can you believe that?'
He was searching the near empty white hallway, the sound of mechanical beeps and hisses; a cocophony of medicine. He looked for the answer in the face of an old man sitting beside a vending machine--soft drinks. 'I don't think i can.' He said. The old man with a face of leather and thin grey hair, glanced at him momentarily. No answers crossed the gaze. 'What the fuck am i supposed to do, just smile at her?'
She lost her temper. 'It's your turn to have her tonight...'
'Are you fucking going to stand there, and pull that crap over me?' He lost hope in the old man. 'For once can't you act like a family? I mean, christ just try to be a mother.'
The show had an audience. A young boy in the arms of his mother, was watching with curious intent. He was waiting for an arm to be fixed. The mother furious at the triage, demanding immediate action.
'I want you to forget about yourself, for just one moment, and try to think of meghan.' She threw the napkin away in disgust. It missed the trash can, and lay on the floor. The young boy in his mother's arms found it amusing.
'How did it happen?' He asked.
She was lost in an angry thought. 'How did what happen?'
'I hate you.'
'Sorry.' She realized her mistake. 'It was quick,' her hands were shaking, 'and painless.' She added, like at least some agony had been escaped.
'Why would someone take him away?' The emotion was obvious in his voice, it trembeled. 'Why would someone take him away?' He walked to the vending machine, and pressed the button for a soda. The machine rejected his bill. He hit his head against the glass display, and started weeping. 'Fuck!' He kicked the machine. 'Fuck!' The walls moved and the floor gave way, the building collapsed on his sorrow. He shook it, he shook the machine. It grated against the floor. And he shook it. His forhead trickled with blood, and his glazed eyes blurred the soda. 'FUCK!'
He didn't realize the dollar bill being inserted into the machine. The can dropped, and a hand retrieved it.
'My friend.' The old man looked into his eyes and handed him the soda. 'Sometimes they take things away from you. They have taken everything from me.'
Together they embraced, next to the vending machine they embraced.