Monday, July 19, 2010

Pin cushion.

The putrid grey walls were institutional. The air was cold. The room lacked both personality and character. A lone table occupied its middle as the patient, filled with trepidation, lay on it. The fluorescent light on the ceiling flickered a warning of what was to come. Its own Morse code.
The doctor entered with a calmness and confidence. It was but a moment while she prepared her tools, a dozen sterilized needles and an alcohol swab. She quickly located the required points along the patient's meridian lines and awakened each one with precision and speed. Not five minutes from when she first walked in, the doctor was walking out. Now it was up to the body's elements to awaken and restore its energies.
As the door was closing, the doctor turned off the lights. The patient left behind. With only thoughts and darkness - both nightmares and dreams.
And the clock ticked on.

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