fuzzywuzzywooky

Ward E has become my favorite part of the institution. It's the only area where guards carry lethal weapons, and entering it at any hour instantly surrounds you with a salvo of implacable clamor mixed with the faint, acrid smell of sanitation equipment that never completely erases some of the stains its residents leave in fancy or fury. The place rattled the hell out of my nerves when I began my residency here, but that was quite some time ago. Now I always find myself called to Ward E with a minute welling of rational excitement, like an archaeologist beginning a dig. The chaos that meets me at its door each day has become nothing more than