The Specialist

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The doctor walked mechanically into the room

slapped on deep blue rubber gloves and

hid his mouth and nose behind a rough paper mask.

The patient was propped awkwardly upright

supported by dense, stone pillows

as his eyes stared blankly at a stained wall

With sick eyes he looked towards the doctor and said:

‘what is living doctor?

are you supposed to feel alive?’

The doctor twisted to see the man and said:

‘it’s time for surgery Mr. Machine.

let me put you down.’

The patient closed his eyes and fell asleep…

Two hours later, the Specialist arrived.

The doctor stomped out of the room,

his face pale and lifeless

perplexed by the phenomenon lying on the bed.

He approached the Specialist and addressed him with a raspy voice:

“it has never been this difficult before…The heart—

it is as hard as a steel!”

The Specialist only smiled and said:

“How little you know.

You never studied.”

The Specialist glided into the room

washed his hands with a clear stream of water and

dried his hands with a white paper towel.

He breezed over to the patient’s bed

and taking no utensils

delved his hands into the open body.

Blood pooled around his hands and

organs bulged and bent

The Specialist coaxed the life forms

into order.

And when he reached the heart,

He cupped it in his hands

and smiled.
The Specialist did no more.

He gently tucked the heart back into place

and molded the skin back

into order.

Then—he left.

The patient awoke two hours later.

He rested back against the fluffy pillows

and gazed dreamily at the pure white ceiling

all the while blissfully smiling.

The doctor strode in hurriedly and the patient sat up enthusiastically to say:

‘Doctor it feels so good

to be living today!”





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