The Vessel Vespertilian

“Raccoons or orphans, whatever is back there, chase them away. Or chase this away. It’s your choice.”

I didn’t want to look at the glinting silver coin that he held up, but I couldn’t help it. This was not the coin I needed today, or ten days from now, or even ten years from now. I was prudent with my coin. No, this was the coin I would need when I was an old woman, assuming I wanted to be the type of old woman who spent her days sitting by a sunlit window, sipping on fruit nectar, listening to a happy dog bark as I read a book of my choosing for as long as I so pleased.

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The Antechamber

Waiting.  We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.  A nuisance, maybe, if I were out in the world on an errand or anticipating someone’s arrival.  But here, in the antechamber, poised on the threshold of the most important thing I will ever do with my life, or the grandest failure of my life, those thirty minutes have stretched into the last thirty years of my life.  It must be worse for the person on the other side of the antechamber door, the patient waiting for us to save his life.

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