in the waiting room

I met you, face to face.

I was sitting in the waiting room of the doctors office, to get my hands stiched up. I had walked here with one hand in a plastic bag the other in plaster.

You saw me and my sad face and laughed. Then apologised. “sorry that both your hands are injuired it just made me giggle. What is your name?”

I told her my name and she was very chatty, it was a good change compared to just dealing with my own thoughts. She said she was waiting for a friend, but are just getting a check up nothing serious.

My name was called and I stand up. I say I enjoyed this chat. And she said “ okay i’ll tell you what. When you get out I’ll walk you home, make it up to for laughing. I’m Chelsea by the way.”

I smiled and headed on in.

In the doctors office, he looked bemused. I was in here less then a week ago, to have my cast on. What did I tell you about taking it easy? He said.

My pen broke. I said cradeling the bloody plastic bag that held my hand. Blood had pooled and dried at the bottom.  Removing the bag, the doctor cleaned and stiched up my hand. All the dried blood, it is asmazing how much we bleed when just left to drip, like a sack of water with a hole in the bottom.

When I was ready to go, I saw Chelsea with another lady, no doubt here friend chatting away. They looked at me giggling, holding hands, and then the other said okay I’ll let you go. Have fun.

I walk on over and smile.

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