She limped in and plopped on a chair. Smiling brightly, she asked how I was.
“Worried,” I replied. “You’re getting Vicodin from three different docs.”
Eyes wide in a ‘Moi?’ sort of way, she phoned her husband--had he picked up these meds?
Our eyes met as tears formed and rolled down her cheeks. She closed up her phone.
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1 comment:
I love this blog! It takes more talent to write a meaningful 55 words with emotional punch than to write a long post. Added to my reader...
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