http://www.amazon.com/A-Flock-Of-Gerber-Daisies/dp/1484129172
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CF5UZWQ
https://www.createspace.com/4246997
A FLOCK OF GERBER DAISIES
Kenneth H. Griffin
Chapter 1
The piercing sound from the car’s horn caused my heavy eyelids to perk. I stopped looking at the ground as I crossed the street. It is freezing cold, but the driver of the car rolled down his window anyway. He screamed inaudible words at me and continued to honk in a rhythmic beat.
His words go through me.
I’m sure they were cuss words, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t paying any attention as I crossed the street, and didn’t intend to start. I continued my walk and I didn’t look back. The air is thick--thick like cooled vanilla pudding. Snow is coming. Beneath my tired legs the sidewalk is cracked. Patches of dark and light concrete create a collage on the ground--for a brief second--I am transfixed by it. The rubber soles on my boots are bulky. The shoestrings are loosely knotted and the dark leather is worn.
They feel good on my feet.
The office is an old house converted into several office rooms. The adornments give an impression of comfort, but it is complete discomfort. Perhaps there is distress because there is no hope of getting a shot, only pills. I hear Dr. Franks talking on the phone, his usual mantra whenever I come. Dr. Franks is a short man with a robust well-groomed stomach. He has a face not too groomed. I’m sure his razor at home is a month old with only a few shaves per its thin metal blade. Sometimes I call Dr. Franks his first name--Lloyd. Sometimes I call him nothing at all and prefer to let the light diffused on my dilated pupils dictate his name to me.
I’m always immediately drawn to his naturally arched eyebrows, and even on this day. This day, this week, this month, and a motion of our two-year dance that has led up to this cut.
“Hey David,” he says with warm vocal cords, as if they could shoot light.
I nod, and immediately Dr. Franks senses a difference in my tone, a shift in spirit. He shuts the door, an act I find amusing because I know I won’t be staying long.
He asked, “So, David, how are we this week?”
Dr. Franks always used my name before he spoke or asked questions. His own special way of creating fluffy clouds, or just what he learned from post medical school scholarship geared toward the mind.
“Just came to say goodbye,” I responded.
“David. Goodbye?”
I nodded. Dr. Franks gestured for me to sit down.
I was through talking. I was ready for the street. I assumed by Dr. Franks’ look that he felt I wasn’t ready for anything and I wasn’t going to go anywhere.
Dr. Franks asked, “David, have you slept today?”
“No.”
I’m finally awake.
“I don’t want to sit and talk because I’m not staying. Just wanted to make sure you received the payment from my insurance company.”
“Yes, David, I have. Have you been taking your meds?”
I thought meds, beds, sleds, and the dead.
