ON THE HUNT - a story in 100 words

ON THE HUNT
He sits slumped in the outpatients’ department like a fly-tipped sack in a side road. Drunk, or high on something, though it looks more low than high – a life out of control.Alone.I sit beside him, inhaling the sour, unwashed smell like perfume.A nurse asks, “You with him?” Hopeful.I shrug. “Sort of.” Non-committal.She shines a light in his eyes. “He’ll live.” Looks round the crowded Saturday night room and sighs. “Take him home.”I scrawl an illegible signature, heave him upright. “Come on, mate.”The nurse moves on, he's forgotten already.He’s mine now.  ..............................................................................................................Control was the word that sprang out of this otherwise unremarkable scene, though as it was Canada Day yesterday and my youngest lives over there with his Canadian wife and daughters, I was reminded of the wide Canadian roads and traffic signs waaaay up high - very strange to my English eyes. I guess they have to be that high up because the trucks are so enormous!Thanks to Na'ama Yehuda for the photograph and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog, from whence you can follow the frog link to read other stories.  https://rochellewisoff.com/