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While watching her pasta slowly turning al dente, Katyusha hummed few random cheerful tune. Her mind and attention splitted between cooking and composing said tune which was why when she heard one of her doors creaked the nurse jumped a bit. She turned off the stove and went to check the backdoor.

Just like she had predicted, someone had recently entered her house. That person was small-build, either a very thin guy or a female, which was rarer but the stranger really a female once Katyusha approached. She clutched her shoulder, her face twisted in pain. Without asking what or how she got injured, Katyusha simply led her to the spare bedroom specifically prepared to house the birds.

“Lie down,” the nurse commanded and checked the wound. A bullet was stuck in it and sure ripped few muscles. Katyusha sometimes wished they would stop shooting people; gouging the bullet was never a pretty job - especially because she learnt how to do it not in the classroom. Since she didn’t have proper surgery equipment, Katyusha used to work with makeshift tools.

She left the room for a while and back with bandages, a handkerchief and a teaspoon. First she blocked the blood circulation by binding the area between wound and heart tightly. Then she apologized, “I’m sorry if this will hurt you. I don’t have pain removal at the moment so please bite this and don’t let your tongue gets bitten,” she put the handkerchief in the woman’s healthy hand and then, without looking if her request was done, proceeded to remove the bullet.

When she was done, her head already sweating behind her forgotten towel. Katyusha bandaged the wound and left her guest to take some rest. Somehow, she felt weird the woman didn’t speak even once in the whole process. The nurse unwrapped her head, letting her hair fell loose and already halfway to the kitchen when she saw shadow moved behind her front door. Few seconds later, she heard faint knocking.

Another bird already?

Katyusha rushed to the door, unlocked and swung it open. A blond man leaned against the wall, clutching his stomach. Lucky she still got her damp towel in her hand. She quickly pressed it to his wound - if he could walk this far, it sure wasn’t a bullet wound, thank God. His free hand got a dark coat, which the nurse took before slowly swung his arm over her shoulder.

“Can you walk?” she asked, before realizing it was a stupid question and muttered, “sorry.” While usually she never let birds in her bedroom, she had to make an exception tonight. He won’t heal quickly if he slept on the couch.

Katyusha helped him to her own bedroom and under the lamp’s light, she couldn’t help but felt familiar when she saw his face clearly. And before she knew it, she already asked him, “do I know you?”

A woman fumbling her pocket for keys while balancing two carton bags full of groceries. She took a turn, passed three more houses before entered one with a very lush garden; full of potted flowers and few slender trees. The woman was a nurse and she was glad her shift at the hospital ended early; she had a feel a bird would come to the nest. Finally grabbing her keys, she inserted it to the keyhole and the door swung open after a soft click.

Balancing two identities and lives weren’t that hard after she got used to it. While most people knew her as Katyusha Chernenko, an Ukrainian woman who lived alone and working as a nurse at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, some knew her as the Nightingale, the only woman who let people entered her house if they were in need for medical treatment, food and temporary shelter. These people knew she kept a spare backdoor key under a primrose pot. Still, Katyusha wanted someone she can talk about those two lives freely.

After locking the front door, she slipped off her coat and hung it. Then she proceeded to the kitchen and put her groceries in the fridge. A quick inspection in the first-aid kit and cookie jar told her that nobody entered her house while she was working. But maybe one will come later and The Ukrainian had a feel whoever the bird is, he or she will get along well with her. It would be nice if she can find someone she can talk with without choosing her words carefully so her other life won’t be spilled. She better get ready.

Katyusha took a quick shower. Then, with towel wrapping her hair, started to cook a simple dinner for more than one person. The woman hoped whoever the bird is, he or she likes pasta.

324 words. Aurora Williams.