burialrabbits

The Doctor cleared his throat and removed himself from the doorway, allowing me into the Front Hall. The paper bag under my arm ruffled too loudly for the silent hall, and caught the attention of each person that I passed. Nurses, orderlies, other Doctors, some patients in wheeled chairs. A janitor who stared at me as if I were a ghost haunting just him.

It was Dr. Winston who had suggested the gift Id brought and now carried with me through the reception area. Insofar the bright green kite that Brice and I had shared during the Center City Road Town Fair when we were twelve was the only thing that my brother had opened up about to the Doctors. Having swallowed the lips hed chewed off and also most of the ensuing corrective surgery following that, Brice now wore a dust-cover over his mouth and communicated only by written notes.

And now it's off to lunch, and then work.

Signed,
Me.