FTEC, Monday morning
There was no Elliot here.
There was a blond lump beneath the desk repeatedly banging its forehead against the wall and wondering why she even left her apartment that morning, given that everyone on the island had seen her as a 5-year-old ninja-ballerina-doctor. And that lump would probably, if someone came in, manage to provide a simulation of medical care.
But she was seriously considering changing her name and leaving town, or having radical plastic surgery. She'd always wanted a new chin anyhow.
The clinic is open -- even though, because acute embarrassment is not a medical diagnosis, it cannot help the poor doctor beneath the desk.
There was a blond lump beneath the desk repeatedly banging its forehead against the wall and wondering why she even left her apartment that morning, given that everyone on the island had seen her as a 5-year-old ninja-ballerina-doctor. And that lump would probably, if someone came in, manage to provide a simulation of medical care.
But she was seriously considering changing her name and leaving town, or having radical plastic surgery. She'd always wanted a new chin anyhow.
The clinic is open -- even though, because acute embarrassment is not a medical diagnosis, it cannot help the poor doctor beneath the desk.