She lumbered large to the exam room each visit, clutching penciled notes scrawled on tiny pages. I sighed to see her on the schedule, wondering anew if fibromyalgia really exists.
“So,” I said interrupting her litany, “Anything new in your life?”
“Why yes,” she said, “My cockatiel’s eggs have hatched, four babies!”
Our heads touched over pictures.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment