It takes forever getting to hospitals and finding your way to a room with someone in it who might be your uncle. The nurses on staff won’t send you cell phone images, damn them. And what if he weren’t my uncle, but my lesbian lover? It wouldn’t hardly be possible at all.
One more hospital to check, and the man in his late 50s there is in intensive care. I don’t know if I wish it’s him or not; which is worse, knowing someone’s hurt, or not knowing? — Flyss