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| “Yes,
but the Doctor prefers to see young people first,” the woman
explains “Its easier to cure young people, so he’d
rather take care of them first. Before crying becomes part of their
way. Besides, they require less of his solution, so they’re
a better investment, so to speak.” Veronica smiles at the woman, not knowing if she is serious or kidding. The woman returns her token fake smile. “It’s much harder at my age,” She says as she blows her nose into her handkerchief, “I’ve been here five times and I still can’t stop.” The receptionist takes Veronica’s clipboard, places it under her armpit, and guides her down the hall. They pass the banker on his way out. He has a fierce smile that exposes his sharp upper teeth like shark fins. He looks hungry. “Good luck,” he bends down to say straight into Veronica’s eyes, the way he was taught to speak to people in business school. Veronica is startled. She almost trips over her own feet as the receptionist points to a room at the end of the hall. She sits on a black leather couch in a room full of plants and framed diplomas. At its center, across from the couch stands an oak desk with 8”x12” standing family photos and five mini sculptures in glass and gold with different award titles. This office looks like part of a sitcom set. It is all just too typical Veronica thinks. She crosses her legs and closes her eyes. She doesn’t think. She tries to listen to the beat of her heart and mix around it some drum and base in her head. She is all anticipation. “Please make me cry. Please make me cry. Please make me cry.” “Well hello there,” Doctor Kcops remarks, stirring the air in the room as he closes the door behind him. “Okee dokee, let’s see what we have here.” He sits at his desk and begins flipping through a file with her name hand-written on its label. He has perfectly smooth skin, fluffy salt and pepper hair, and a Hollywood |
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