I sit and wait.
My palms are oceans of regret.
My mouth is desert dry with worry.
My mind races at light speed.
Countless lifetimes of what could’ve been fly by.
Knowing.
Not knowing.
I don’t which is worse.
Sweat scurries down my back like a million baby roaches.
My spine has turned to a blistering tundra.
My muscles are a thousand snapping rubber bands.
My bones are rigid bands of steel.
I see the woman in white.
She hurries towards me like some alabaster harbinger.
Her skirt flaps like the wings of an albino bat with every stride.
I cannot read her face of stone.
She smiles.
But her eyes betray her.
“The doctor will see you now.”