this is rough. really, really rough.

“So can you fix me?”

“You aren’t understanding what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“You said you could fix me. You said you could fix me.” she cried in pure desperation with tears beginning to reach their breaking point as they welled in her eyes.

He was silent. The words he didn’t speak were translated through his weak eyes. And then she was certain she knew, and she was right. She was Eve biting into the apple for the first time, accepting the power of true enlightenment and feeling very much ashamed for the actions she had just taken. She was Pandora opening her magnificent box and becoming terrified at its contents. She desperately wanted to take those past few moments back, never to replay them again. What she found was not to her liking.

“I wasn’t wrong. As much as I wanted to be, I just wasn’t. You do have cancer. I am so sorry.”

“No you aren’t. This is just another part of your profession, albeit an unpleasant part. The only thing you are really sorry for is that you don’t have a another person hired to do this part of your job for you. I don’t see why not. It’s not like you don’t have enough money to be able to pay someone.”

This is a perfectly normal, typical answer. She’ll get over it. Or it will get over her, and bury her six feet under a fresh layer of soil shoveled in by some schmuck on a backhoe. Her slender, pale body lying there. Her nicest black cocktail dress gently draped around her body, exposing just enough cleavage to get you curious and aroused, yet clings to its own hopes of modesty by letting you follow it only so far. --Stop it. What are you thinking? This woman could be dead any day now. Plus, she’s still wearing that wedding ring from her marriage two years ago. She’s still in love with him and can’t let go. He sure did, though.

“You’re right. Maybe I should hire someone, at least part time.” he chuckled to himself.

“I’m sorry, but I could really deal with this whole situation a lot easier if your inserts of pathetic sarcasm simply didn’t exist.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. That just further proves that I’m not any good at this part of the job.”

“Is that all this is to you? Just a job? Well I have news for you friend, you are effecting lives here. Do you realize that? And I don’t mean measly emotional scarring, or anything of that nature. I mean life and death scenarios, alright?”

He answered with a dumbfounded, “Alright, alright. I just thought that was juxtaposed with what you said about my outlook on my occupation earlier.”

“I was simply making the point that you don’t execute all of the aspects of your occupation equally as well. Frankly, the whole here’s the bad news gimmick you sell to practically everyone that comes through here sucks."

Erin: Go Here.