6.0 in Eureka

by Larry Strattner

Glass pipettes rattled atop the steel shuttle cart.


“Shit,” said the Charge Nurse. “Not again.”


The “standing on a wave in the ocean” feeling moved through quickly and was gone.


The quake shook the pen of a billing clerk as he placed a decimal point on an insurance form. A patient was charged a reasonable amount.


Nurses who had lived in the area for a while barely looked up from their work.


A screech came from Room 326 when the tremor activated an electric bed, folding its occupant into a V. Luckily, it was more a Copperplate Extended V and not Bodoni MT Condensed, which might have been painful.




No bricks fell off the facades of any buildings in Old Town.




A display pile of tomatoes, stacked too high, collapsed in Costco.




A few dogs howled and a stoner proclaimed, “Whoa, Dude.”




The Charge Nurse left work at five o'clock.  Arriving home she found the uniforms she had neatly folded and stacked still on top of the dryer.