Kristoph had hoped for fairer circumstances (in the form of a nail clipper or an emery board) following breakfast, but the emotion proved fruitless in the end. Anything sharper than the edge of notebook paper was not allowed in the care of patients. Too dangerous, it seemed, for both himself and the others. His nails would have to wait until after lunch, when a proper attendant could trim off the result of last night's mishap.

Therefore, it would be ideal if the man spent the present time relaxing as opposed to fussing over his partially broken nail. Or so said his nurse.

He tried, at least. Desperation was weakness; he could stand a few more hours with an imperfect hand as opposed to becoming visibly distraught. The man even wrapped a cloth bandage (complimentary of a nurse) around his finger as though to hide the blemish from view, and took a seat furthest from the general flow of traffic. If no one got too nosy, perhaps he could use the time to figure out exactly how he could snap a certain doctor's neck.

[For Joshua.]