She has a disease, the old man told me. A joke
the young Doctor had one silver hair, with charming
snake eyes. His friendly demeanor taken by serious sadness,
“Of the joints, she is always in pain, yet dances, it helps to stop
the stiffness that could result”. I looked into the ether foreshadowing
the alliteration in his thesis to another case. He always had one
on hand, like the cigarettes he enjoyed. I wouldn’t listen to that
again, or this is a great meson, a lovely older couple. Endless and well
taken for he was a Doctor, and his allusions where sometimes true.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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