CHAPTER ONE: THE NURSE The Nurse climbed in at five, hospital smell of coffee and hand sanitizer trailing her. Dead man tonight, she said. Ninety-four, heart just stopped mid-sentence. Peaceful. The family was more upset about the parking than the death. Three hours in a garage will do that to you. She cracks a window. Cold air, city waking up grey. You know what got the whole cafeteria talking today, she says. Not the death. The AI thing. Administration sent an email, they are testing software that drafts patient discharge summaries. The doctors are furious. The billing people are thrilled. And me, I am sitting there thinking, they automated my paperwork in 2016 and no funeral was held for that either. You still write your notes by hand, I said. On paper, she said. Software can't subpoena a napkin. We hit the bridge. Sun not up yet but trying. She looks at the towers coming out of the fog, says, my rent went up again. Eleven percent. The email said, exciting changes to your living experience. I am paying eleven percent more for the same cockroaches. Even the roaches are struggling now, that is how bad it is. The tram rattled past us going the other way, lit up and empty, carrying nobody to nowhere on schedule. You ever think about quitting the nights, I asked. Every day at six in the morning, she said. Then I sleep until two and forget why. She got out at her place, the one with the roaches. Stood on the sidewalk for a second before going in, the way they all do. The city was getting lighter. Not brighter. Lighter. None of this happened. All of it is true. #nightfare #nightshift #fiction #citylife #shortstory