"You could point me to where I could get a good cup of coffee." She gently took the number to add to her notes and took back the clipboard, countersigning the paperwork and death certificate.
It is official. You're dead, Mr. Kaufman. You can go now, she thought to herself looking at the empty bed where the patient had once been, dismissing him in her mind.
"I'm still getting settled into the new house so where the coffee maker went is a mystery, and the office's tastes like what I hope is just burnt dirt. I'd be grateful."