On The Edge

Robert Dockers

He was in the doctors waiting room, were I worked as a receptionist. That's where I met him. Robert he was called, Robert Dockers. He wore baggy black pants with a buttoned up, off-white shirt. From my desk, behind the glass I watched him. The way he picked at his nails and every so often he would look up, then back down, at his nails again. The collar of his shirt was creased and stuck up a bit at the back. His beard was messy, and his dirty blonde hair was matted on top of his head. His shoes were muddy and one of his laces were undone. He didn't bother redoing it, he just picked at his nails.

For around 10 minutes I watched this man as he waited to be called into the doctors' room. He was a mysterious man and that's what drew my eye to him. He stuck his hand in the pocket of his coat, in which he took off a few minutes earlier. I couldn't see what was in his pocket, but it seemed awfully important as if he needed to keep checking it was there.

The chiming noise went off for the millionth time that day, signalling a name would come up on the screen, along with the number of the doctors' room. The screen read 'Jennifer Brant: room 66'. The dark-haired woman, with a hunched posture got up off the battered, brown leather chairs, opened the double doors and left from my sight. The man gritted his teeth. At that moment I started to notice things I hadn't noticed before. Bags under his eyes, worse than anyone's I had seen before, scuffed shoes and a grim expression on his face; unloved and unwelcoming. Many people had walked into the doctors waiting room, but this man had caught my eye, by fate or coincidence.

The noise went off again but there was nothing on the screen. The handle of room 2 moved down and opened with somewhat of a hurry. Dr. Brone came out and shouted with his ever-dry voice, "Robert Dockers?" Doctor looked around for a moment and then a figure stood from the plastic chair, isolated from others, right at the back of the room. So, his name is Robert,  I thought. I remember thinking he suited a Robert. The man walked slowly, kicking his untied lace and with a big sigh he walked into the room. The creaky door shut.

Robert Dockers, I thought to myself, hmm.