Bertha is a public school nurse that has fingernails rigid as rusted paperclips. To-day is lice day and she divides children’s’ hair with a veil of latex pulled tight across her paperclips and a plastic comb that sings like a kazoo when she skips her paperclips across the comb’s teeth. While she stares dead eyed at various children’s scalps following her routine as child after child passes through her office she contemplates her life decisions.
The discussion to be a public school nurse took place during a steak dinner. Her husband gnawed the fat of his meat lips spanking in carnivorous splendor,
“I think you should go for it.” He said.
She sliced off a piece of bovine, myoglobin laced water dripped from the corners of her mouth as she chewed.
“I mean I am sure it has great benefits.”
She nodded in agreement. From that fateful head nod induced a life of serving tax dollars and spoiled youngsters unleashed and trained to be future leaders of America.
Before the next child enters she stoops and rests on her swivel stool watching a fly continuously smack into glass shielding her from a sunny day.