NHS queues are getting silly

Day two of the writing retreat in Cambridge. The undergrads have been moving out in force, although not as many today as there were yesterday.

We were discussing murder – literary murder – after hearing a few readings involving psychopaths and the finding of torsos and stuff like that.

‘There’s a skeleton!’

Everyone looked at me blankly.

I pointed outside. ‘There’s a skeleton.’

They turned to look.

Someone was carrying a child-size skeleton and some luggage past the window. They left the skeleton and a suitcase beside a sign saying ‘Nurse surgery’ while they took the rest elsewhere.

The blank looks turned to laughter – and more speculation.