DOCTOR

As the elevators door opened, an oddly familiar pungent odour of germicide & bitterness, rushed into my face, stinging my nose & senses. Not comforting, this knowledge that I have, yet lacking; my presence crucial for the answers that I seek.

Not a good place this is to be, yet a good sanctuary that it should and that every place should have.

I turned my head slowly to my right, my eyes sored, evidence of a rough night before. This distinct odour, troubles me so although I know why it is so. Then came this angel in white with brilliance in her eyes of hope, underneath breasts of care. She took of my posession clamped between chubbed digits, ornamented in silver from a past love, and ushered me gently to a seat of company of fate.

He too looked sore. Perhaps rough nights on a rougher time at bay? Or that he already sought the answers that he knew not before at one time just like me. His face paled & battered like paint, old & weathered. A veteran of the war within.

A chill ran down my spine & passed through most intimate parts of me. And the All Gracious & Most Merciful was praised, for I know I was blessed in ways only He would understand & knew.

Again that angel appeared and wrapped her delicate digits around my member....of dexterity and pushed my thoughts to a young man, bespectacled & soft spoken. An accessory hung over his neck, a sure symbol of authority, wisdom & skill in white. He touched my heart, this man, and whispered ever so lowly to that angel. He then turned & smiled at my apprehension. Were that he thought that this is a humour, I'll send him to what Man known as the deepest slumber of no return.

That young man cupped my face in his cold hands & brought my face closer to his & he peered deep into my eyes, in which I, involuntarily flinched to look away; always was I uncomfortable at people staring into my eyes.

"Look straight!" he commanded me, stern yet unintimidating. This time the windows were pierced by a tight beam of light, invading its sanctuary & relieved was I for he can't see the fugitive residing inside.

This young man, proved me wrong. He could see, deep in that recess, he saw and inevitably knew, I was in pain. He touched my shoulder in assurance; empathic now aren't we??? He wrote scribbly notes on a paper & handed it over to that angel who made me blush, my shirt undone.

"Come & see me again", he says, that young man who is now telling me of my pain & of the giant spinning cauldron that I have to go through the next time I see him. Strange is it not? But I believed his words & stranger that I will see him again in 3 days to come. In that moment I know, I will see him more. A good thing isn't it? That at last I have found someone that knows of my pain & talked to me about them.

With a mental toothache, I left him, for now to ponder on the future which lies ahead & of that man's words.....