1962, Sunday, San Francisco
I stride into the sterile hospital room with its single-bed, single-nightstand and no closet, my heels clicking loudly on the old linoleum floor. Michael gives me this surprised look while cracking his knuckles.
I pull out a chair and sit down. Michael slowly raises his head, to stare at me with this kind of look that made him a decade older. He doesn't come out as caring about anything around him but then again most of my patients don't worry about much.
"You put me in a bad mood." Michael leans close, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
Pretending to be polite is so exhausting. Besides, he wants me to disagree with him, but I am not going to do it.
Now he frowns and stares into his empty coffee mug.
"That's interesting; tell me more about that Michael."
Inconvenient silence stretches between us.
Gloria decided it was time to step in so I leave. I like long walks away from everyone.
I grip the balcony and lean down to observe the people walking on the street. There is some laughter, arguments, flirtations. All part of the fun normal life.
I smile back at a stranger in the street. For a moment he stays there, not sure what to say or do.
He does look familiar.
Seconds later I hear Gloria coming after me. She slams the door then folds her arms over her chest and I just don't want to face her. She just stands there, taller than me by a good five inches.
"Have you considered anything of all latterly? Ever since you began working here people commit suicide every week." Her voice is flat because she already said the same words so many times.
"Go home Gloria, you're starting to sound like Michael." I say as I pat her left shoulder.
She grabs her purse and walks toward the door but this time she doesn't slam the door. I should have seen it coming yet it is all a matter of keeping me under control.
I bite down on my lower lip until I taste blood. That's the end of my friendship with Gloria.
Asudden thunder explodes, lightning marking the entire sky, and electricity starts to fail.
I smile a little trying to memorize the stranger's happy expression and the blood drips all over my chest. It's not time for me to go. This time I know what I want.
