Here I sit, waiting quietly
For the nurse to arrive.
An old man sits opposite, crying
"She loved me once" he screams.
But no-one hears him.
On my left an asthmatic, coughing in rhythm
to the easy listening we hear around us.
It doen't seem to have a source,
Just eminating from the grimy walls
where many a sandwich has made its home.
Outside the wind whistles,
uneasy with the cramped silence.
I ask a dyslexic the time
as a way to pass it
My appointment was five minutes ago, I find out
From the intercom that speaks in tongues.
A young woman leaves one of the inner rooms,
Strolling past me leaving a lonely smell of perfume.
"Mr. Russell?"
Yeh
"The doctor can see you now"
-Fun, fun all the way- Right, Ta
I follow the receptionist into a corridor,
With cold, white light shining from a ceiling lamp.
We turn right
Left
Right
Right again.
Come in, Joseph. Take a seat.
Cheers.
The light is harsher in here,
Caused by the Gistapo-style lamp in the corner.
"So tell me, how are you feeling this evening?"