February by Nick Nwaogu - HTML preview

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RECEPTIONIST (O.S.) You may need to come back later, sir. The patient is stable and responding to treatment, but she isn’t awake yet.

 

FEMI (O.S.)

 

Don’t worry I will wait.

 

An EMPTY white ambulance, completely buried in the faint shadow of the tall building, is PARKED on the tarred road of the Street, and very close to the entrance of the outpatient clinic on the ground floor. Female nurses in clean uniform are outside the building, heading for the entrance, chitchatting with one another and laughing.

 

There’s a large blue signboard just above the main entrance, which reads: “ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL”.

 

INT. RECEPTION HALL, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS

 

A NEAT, ORDERLY and somewhat QUIET king-size room.

 

RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)

 

It may take several hours.

 

FEMI (O.S.)

 

It’s alright, I’ve got all day. Just don’t forget to let me know when she’s awake.

 

An old lady, finely-wrinkled, probably in her mid-70s, completely grey-haired, wearing an old-fashion eye glasses with a black plastic frame and thick large lenses, is being pushed across the Screen, on a wheel chair, by a young female NURSE, who’s neatly dressed in a sparkling-clean white uniform.

 

RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)

 

Okay, sir. Please do have a seat.

 

We arrive at a dashingly-handsome gentleman, definitely in his early-30s, NEATLY dressed in a clean Nigeria Police uniform, blue shirt and black trouser, essentially decorated. The three red ‘V’s on his short sleeves indicate that the young chap is a SERGEANT in the Nigeria Police Force.

 

The Officer is RESTLESSLY seated on one of the many benches where families of patients are IMPATIENTLY waiting -- some of them are in GRIEF, others are in TEARS, but many of them are overwhelmed with ANXIETY, without any verbal interaction with anyone.

 

On one of the benches is a gentleman on a blue shirt and a grey trouser, swiping the screen of a sleek tablet, with his eyes glued to the screen. Next to him is an exhausted lady dressed in a native purple attire, dozing off. Behind them is a robust woman dressed in Ankara, speaking to herself in despair.