The sun has circled the building after playing outside all day. It peeks in the west windows, watching like a curious cat will a bird, waiting for a flash of an eyelash, a sign of a sigh.

The dinner trays have all been collected, the aide shakes his head at the waste of untouched meatloaf and green beans, red jello in unopened cups. Three nurses are counting out night pills, lost in the blare of different channels of tv's that no one is watching.

The visitors have made their appearance, combed hair, given presents, tried to make someone laugh and forget for a moment, a slice of the present of time. Except for the few who are waiting, wanting more or less, wondering when?