... The hospital's surroundings was quiet around ward 201, the air carrying the scent of antiseptic. Amanda, crossing her arms, waited just outside the ward's door for the doctor to come out.
Through the glass lining on it, she stared at the inside — the white-coated doctor was taking recordings and evaluations of a body overly wrapped in bandages, the cable of the beeping life-supporting machine attached to him. He slept in silence — a poor comatose soul.
Soon after the doctor came out, she dismissed the nurse to have a quick chat with Amanda.
Amanda sighed out loud.
Swallowing, she asked, "Is there any assurance of when he might wake up?"
The doctor replied, adjusting her spectacles, "That, if I am being honest, is so unpredictable. This kind of a situation is usually called waiting for a miracle even in the medical field, if you get what I mean..."
