His wife rolled her eyes, but he continued: the manager emerging from the back, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. And the diner in the corner, trying to spear a crouton covered in French dressing.
He began again after their salads were served. He’d hardly ceased since being told he had a DVT in his left leg two days ago. Imagine throwing a clot here, he said. Slumping from my chair, a glimpse of the carpet when I hit the ground: bits of food, even a fingernail. The voices of customers who thought it was a joke at first.
His wife rolled her eyes, but he continued: the manager emerging from the back, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. And the diner in the corner, trying to spear a crouton covered in French dressing.
Pamela Kennedy
28/1/2022 11:33:35 am
You just never know when it's going to be your turn.
Sue Clayton
29/1/2022 12:59:17 am
Don't know who's the bigger clot; the DVT or him for dwelling on it.
Candace Arthuria Williams
3/2/2022 05:07:43 pm
Bruce, this story will encourage readers to follow up with their long overdue medical care. I know I will. Thank you and well done. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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