What's Worrying Me?

Just ask the creeps that run my sub-conscious mind. They played a real doozy of a worry for my viewing pleasure this morning just before I woke up.

Open scene.

Doting Granddaughter is walking down a well-lit hallway filled with doors. She stops at one, knocking loudly as she enters.

DG: Hello!! Is there anyone home?

Suddenly she realizes that things aren't as they seem. Instead of a cheery little room filled with familiar furniture, she sees a darkened hospital room divided in two by a heavy grey curtain. Beloved Gramma is lying on her stomach, covered with a thick, green army blanket. She stares blankly towards the floor.

DG (determined to make the best of this strange turn of events): Gramma? Gramma...it's me.
BG (dully, without looking up): Oh, hello dear.

This is not the response Doting Granddaughter was expecting. She has been away for some time and had looked forward to this surprise visit. Where were the hugs? the sparkling eyes?

DG: Do you know who I am?
BG (indignant at being questioned, but not very convincingly): Of course I do.

Doting Granddaughter looks around, frightened, for a doctor or someone who can explain what is going on. How could Beloved Gramma not recognize her? Something was very wrong.

End Scene

This doting granddaughter woke up not a little worried that this was some kind of foreshadowing for her not to distant visit home.