Day 48: Doctor's Office 2 (Dr. Stein) [Fourth Shift]
Stein sighed, looking down at the mess on his desk. Flecks of tobacco and torn bits of paper littered the top of it, some of it getting between the keys of his computer. The filter was still squeezed between his fingertips.
His hands were itching. A momentary spasm of movement had reduced a perfectly good cigarette to the mess on his desk before him. All shredded and torn apart, just like he would like to do to...
The doctor sighed and leaned back in his chair, rotating around and flicking the useless remainder into the trash bin. His fingers drummed restlessly on his legs, itching for something to do. Spinning around back to the desk, he opened the drawer, carelessly dumping the remains of the cigarette back it; his next patients would be here soon, so he needed this cleaned up.
It was as he was turning over his keyboard, shaking out the bits of tobacco that his eyes fell upon it, caught by the gleam of metal. A scalpel, simple and sharp, lying there among the pens and paperclips like it was just another piece of stationary. It would be so easy, once he was alone with the patient...
At the knock at his door, he slammed the drawer shut, backing away from the desk and spinning about in his chair before coming to a halt facing the door.
"Come in," he called, a bright smile painted on his face for whoever the nurse was escorting. Ah, just a little longer before the day was over...
His hands were itching. A momentary spasm of movement had reduced a perfectly good cigarette to the mess on his desk before him. All shredded and torn apart, just like he would like to do to...
The doctor sighed and leaned back in his chair, rotating around and flicking the useless remainder into the trash bin. His fingers drummed restlessly on his legs, itching for something to do. Spinning around back to the desk, he opened the drawer, carelessly dumping the remains of the cigarette back it; his next patients would be here soon, so he needed this cleaned up.
It was as he was turning over his keyboard, shaking out the bits of tobacco that his eyes fell upon it, caught by the gleam of metal. A scalpel, simple and sharp, lying there among the pens and paperclips like it was just another piece of stationary. It would be so easy, once he was alone with the patient...
At the knock at his door, he slammed the drawer shut, backing away from the desk and spinning about in his chair before coming to a halt facing the door.
"Come in," he called, a bright smile painted on his face for whoever the nurse was escorting. Ah, just a little longer before the day was over...