You never liked me. I don’t know why. You always discouraged and demeaned me at every opportunity, and because of that I’ve never been open to improving the situation. We never confronted the problem, just put it on the back burner to simmer away for years.
I thought I was over it, until today chance sent the upper hand my way. A bad car accident left you on the table in front of me. I guess they didn’t connect our names. Now it’s up to me to decide what can be saved and what can’t. The arm looks bad; the leg too. But no. Even though it looks okay, I think it’s your voice box that’s been too badly damaged. It can’t be saved. It’ll have to come out. Yes, that’s it. We’ll all be much happier in the long run.
It’s not always the greatest job, but today, I love being a trauma surgeon.
Through a lifetime of jobs, places, and experiences, one constant for Rex Graves was always reading. Retired now, he has time to try writing stories as well as reading them. He hopes you find them interesting. His work has been published in Hypnopomp Magazine.