In bed, I felt relaxed and beautiful, as I imagine I shall feel in death. I had not been there long when another nurse appeared. She was in the uniform of a student and her face had the exalted look of a person who is doing a great deal of work and receiving no pay for it — which was, of course, exactly the case. She regarded me closely.
‘It says on your card that you’re a writer,’ she began, ‘but I’ve never heard of you.’
‘Did you come in here to harp on my obscurity,’ I asked.
‘No, I came in here to rub your back.’ She closed the door and I generously allowed her to rub my back. Later I was given a sedative and slept the uninterrupted sleep of the little-known.
-EB White “A Weekend with the Angels” The Second Tree from the Corner