4.
"Sir, please don't smoke in here."
Matthew looked up, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His eyes locked on the nurse. He raised is eyebrows, pointing to his ear. He shook his head slowly. The nurse frowned, the saggy lines of her face, her flesh like the inside of chestnuts, twisted in apathy. She pointed to her lips, making a smoking gesture.
"No. Smoking." She mouthed.
Matthew sighed and snuffed the cigarette in his glass of water. He crossed his arms and stared out the window.
Not long after a second person came in to patronise him. Matthew turned, adjusting his wiry, circular glasses to a "what is it?" composure. The person at the door was an officer. Matthew felt his heart quicken. He straightened up in his bed.
The officer approached him and took a seat. "How's it going?"
Matthew smiled, giving the officer a small nod. He'd seen those words formed on enough mouths to tell how genuine they were. And this officer's chapped, flaky pale lips seemed sincere.
"I'm Gilbert B. Call me Gil." Gilbert held out a hand. Matthew shook it.
The corners of Gilbert's eyes and lips were red. His hairline was pink as well, fading into nearly translucent white, wispy hair.
"I have a few questions to ask you." Gilbert said, taking a notepad from the side of his uniform, right next to his thick, slick holster.
Matthew shook his head.
Gilbert paused.
"Are you deaf or mute?"
Matthew nodded.
Gilbert paused, putting the end of the pen to his lips. "Do hearing aids not work for you?"
Matthew raised a hand, pressing his thumb to his fore and middle fingers, rubbing them together. Money.
"I see." Gilbert said. "You can read my lips."
Matthew shrugged.
Gilbert stood up, slightly confused on what to do next. He washed the expression away quickly. "OK, I hear you have a brother here."
"Yes." A hollow voice, mimicking sound poorly from an ancient memory lodged somewhere in the past. Matthew shut his lips quickly and pointed in front of him.
Gilbert took to the next room, leaving Matthew exhausted and ashamed. But for what?