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The gates to the workhouse slid open

She cleaned out her drawers and somewhere in the distance the steam whistle blew, and the gates to the workhouse slid open. She had worked at the practice for nearly thirty years but it was time to say goodbye. As she stepped out into the street she shielded her eyes against the bright sun shine and passed the familiar trees with their ripped swaying shadows. A breeze riffled her flowers. She knew that something was wrong.

She staggered forwards and as she fell she saw a gothic grey spire touching the sky. They worked on her for forty minutes, they intubated her and shocked her, they did everything they could, she had so many plans but was pronounced life extinct at exactly half past five. She was only sixty eight. As she fell she saw the spire. And the spire touched the sky before it became lost in the cloud.

Dr Kevin Hinkley is a GP in Aberdeen