times in their nursing careers, though they’re still quite young, and neither is alarmed. They know nothing can be done for the dead man. One of them says: “Open a window, it’s stuffy in here.” “Sure is,” replies the other. A crisp mid-March breeze freshens the room.
“Well, there’s no more that can be done for him,” comments the first nurse. Then she asks: “Do you remember if he had a wife or anybody that visited him?” The other nurse shakes her head negatively, then adds: “Are you kidding! He’s not exactly the husband type. I mean, just take a look at that face .”
The first nurse nods positively. She makes a humorous remark about the deceased and then both nurses leave the room smiling.
But apparently neither of them noticed the fantastic and frightening thing which occurred right before their eyes: H.P. Lovecraft, for only the shortest-lived moment, had ever so faintly smiled back at them.