The Waiting Room

I stepped off the bus, though none were there to greet me, and walked through clearing dust and setting sun to the office where your money talked. The doctor could not be seen too soon; there were video drugs in the waiting room. The first elixir that caught my eye said, 'CHANNEL TWO: AN OCEAN VIEW'. Uncapping the vapors with a sigh a constant roaring, rumbling blue swelled up to splash across my mind; the smiling mermaid waved, but I had no time. I'd felt a tube lodged in my chair marked 'CHANNEL THREE: GO NATURALLY'. The receptionist gave a glancing glare so I sipped it ever so gingerly; back she turned to her paper extortion and I internalized the entire portion. Transported into a lovely quad of rich green lawn, earth born anew; where unclothed bodies, never flawed, danced and bathed in honeydew. As I joined in, there was some screaming. A voice cried, 'Stop that wicked dreaming!' I buttoned up and scanned the table; chose 'CHANNEL FOUR: TO KNOW SOME MORE'. A scant few drops had me unstable, digesting data beyond my store; billboards flashed in coordinated colors, all the latest, brand new, improved sellers. Completely exhausted, I saw the last bill proclaiming a remedy soon to arrive to solve all anxiety, cure any ill: Try 'CHANNEL FIVE: NO LONGER ALIVE' For the impatient patient who can't bear to wait, enjoy your death now before you are late! Realizing that my credit was of no use in this world, I arose from my seat giving the doctor no excuse, and embraced the chaos of the street. I had a powdered, diet, taste-free drink, and looked around for a ship to sink. Written September 2nd, 2001 © on Sep 02 2001 02:20 PM PST, yes   0 • 11 • 7