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Town Trial by Fiona Ritchie Walker

I watch their windows light up when the morning siren sounds. Seeing them shuffling to their benches, I know why some question whether it’s right, at their age, to keep them working here.

My research shows it’s all about the hands. Repetition bypasses the damaged sections of their brains, triggers smiles, conversations again. 

The 6pm siren. Laughing, they head for the bar, go shopping. Our nurses working here see the change. Now it’s late evening before they shrink back into their lonely worlds.

Each night I pause at the gate, watch the computerised sunset, rise of the moon and stars.



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