The patients flood the hospital hallways like berserk appliances, Northeast Georgia Medical Center, a shrine to all the diseases she creates, chasing light, the electric blue smoke emitting through the temple holes in the floor, the little gray demons howling on the mother and baby unit, the narcotic windows and dull beep of monitors and their evil machinery and valves, flickering skin-lit lamps and the ever familiar smell of sulfur, the wayward nuns and corrosive tongues wagging, a plastic flower that looks like a dragon's claw, the staff lectured by some priestess wearing a Duchess crown in a sick-bed.