Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

July 21, 2018, 09:40:19 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Doctor  (Read 48 times)
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« on: July 05, 2018, 05:31:01 AM »

   The desk is towering over me and I listen as my mom checks in for the appointment. The lights are fluorescent, making the building feel about as sterile as the latex gloves that you can smell in everything. We sit and I feel the harsh wooden corners of the chair dig into my thighs. My mom picks up a magazine and I follow suit. Monkey see, monkey do. I like the sound of the flipping pages and the comforting isolation that comes from a nice long article, accompanied by a bright and beautiful photograph of a mountain lion or a painted cartoon of a farm.
   People come and go, seemingly quicker than we do. We become the furniture. We are the ever-present coffee tables that the staff learn to ignore. We are the carpet that needs to be vacuumed, but someone else can do it tomorrow. They call my name, “Alexander.” All four syllables. I get comfortable in a tiny room, sitting on the long paper sheet on the doctor’s chair. Here’s another waiting game. I think about the taste of the popsicle sticks sitting there in a jar. I look at the red container for needles and other unsafe quarantined items. I play the drums on my leg. I start to sing a little song to myself when suddenly I hear the doorknob click and the door swings open. A little startled, I look up at the nurse, prettier than I was expecting. My mind races a little as I imagine our life together, before she starts asking me some rather blunt personal questions.  On our first date??? This romance is over before it’s begun, and before long she starts prodding me with stethoscopes and popsicle sticks and that viewer that goes into my ear.
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« Reply #1 on: July 08, 2018, 12:01:22 PM »

This is my first time on this site. I enjoyed that a lot. Smiley
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