Thursday, November 23, 2017

Coming clean

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends!

Here is my excerpt from the latest chapter. 

At 11:30 she found herself in the waiting room at the doctor’s office.  She had the crumpled up note in her pocket.  She had to use a flashlight to locate it.  It was stuck on the floor in a puddle of something disgusting that had leaked out of the fridge.  It was accompanied by a few cat crunchies, a dried raison, and an errant pink and grey pill.  Ironic she thought.  Totally ironic. 
The receptionist ushered her into the examining room where she fiddled with her phone until she heard the tap on the door.  He came in and settled himself into the chair, as he usually did, he crossed his legs, leaned back and asked her how she was.
She never quite knew how to answer the question.  Usually she said, not fine.  And then she usually smiled.  It wasn’t funny. 
Today though, she didn’t say anything.  She reached into her pocket and took out the sticky crumpled note and handed it to the doctor.
He looked at it.  He looked at her.  He gave it back to her. 
He asked her how long she had had the note.  More exactly how long she had had the thought that was written on the note. 
“Months", she said.  “Many months.  But I never actually get to it.”
“Clearly”, he said. 

They both smiled. 
 It wasn’t funny, but they both smiled.

1 comment:

I look forward to reading the comments. It makes me feel like I am not just posting into the void.