I'm working at a hospital.
I don't know what my job is. In fact I don't know what I'm doing there at all. I'm in way over my head and everybody knows it. The staff make fun of me. I see them at reception giggling about how bad I am at the job.
I can hear them say my name and shoot me sidelong glances, smirking and sniggering in their little clusters of white coats.
I don’t know what my purpose is here? I know I’m not a doctor or nurse. I have no training. I’m not wearing the uniform but I know I work here. I know I have a job to do. Maybe I’m not as important as these doctors and that’s why they mock me. Or maybe because I’m wandering around like an idiot trying to work out what I’m supposed to be doing.
I hate it the way they are looking at me so I walk away to the back of the hospital where there are floor to ceiling glass doors at the end of a vast corridor. It's the rear entrance to the hospital. Beyond the glass is a small wall less than a metre high and it is holding back a mass of water.
The river which follows the length of the wall just a few metres behind it has burst its banks. It looks more like a swelling ocean held back by a few bricks and mortar that could collapse at any moment. People have been swept up in the wash and are crashing against the wall, trying to grab the bricks to pull themselves up and over but the currents are too strong and their swept away.
It's raining heavily and water is starting to push over the wall and splash the concrete in front of the entrance.
Panicked, I go back to reception. I tell the doctors about the flooding and suggest we should put sandbags down at the base of the glass doors. The doctors and nurses look at me curiously but a senior doctor goes to check. He runs back and quickly orders everyone to collect sandbags.
I have saved the hospital.
That was my job all along.