Was it just last week when normalcy still reined, the dull one of getting up, boiling her egg for exactly six minutes, retrieving the newspaper from the driveway, dodging puddles in her blue slippers? Before her fall that landed her here, with a broken hip? To stare out a hospital window at a parking garage? She'd watch the tiny cars in the distance come and go, trying to block out the sticky patter of nurses' shoes in the hallway, their chatter that only made her feel lonely. She'd wait to see a tiny person exit their car. One to actually pause and look her way.