Wednesday, April 21, 2010

... Not to say Father's feigning this illness, that his nerves aren't good, but Mother whips into a fever so infectious that even a fit of coughing warrants the surgeon, who doesn't come as fast as he once did. So, thats why I'm here, hands double-fisted crouching against the wall of my home waiting for a man to come and proscribe a placebo and permit me some peace. It's dusk now and the room above me has suddenly hushed with the surgeon's entrance...

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