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December 2018


The Odd Poem Mair Odd Poems Even Odder Poems
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Odd Poems

A world in verse.
            Voices from Methil.

Dave’s Booklist

Dave's Book List

Dave's Book List
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Spare a Minute

This story already features in tachras, but I thought that it should be brought to the front, again.

At last, we come to it.
Weeks of waiting. Dark nights and long grey days. Somehow, they have passed and this is the day.
Whatever happens, I feel that the day’s pronouncements – no matter how grim – cannot be worse than the past few weeks. At least, I will be certain.
After waiting so long to see a doctor, I now have two appointments. Another letter has arrived. It seems that I have another appointment today. To see another doctor.
Long forgotten, a trivial matter in comparison. Same day, but in the morning. It will help to fill in the empty hours.
Like buses! No doctor for weeks, then two come at once. I seem to have acquired a darker sense of humour. Why am I not laughing?
I will not speak much of the first appointment.
Abrupt. Rude. Someone who talked at me – not to me. I tried to speak, but I was only the patient. They were the doctor. I should have felt anger but there was no fire in me.
I travelled to the afternoon appointment, feeling worse than I could have believed possible. Would this be another trial? Or just a long wait in a dusty corridor, shuffling to my fate. Was I just a number? I handed my letter to the receptionist. Sat down. Waited.
There were only a few people in the waiting area. Solitary islands in an ocean of misery. We all knew why we were here, but there was no communication.

Coming next …
Cara’s Story

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