Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Facts

The patient was attacked by his heart while weed-whacking. This has happened once before; it was worse this time. The patient was given a Valium at bedtime and woke up in the middle of the night hallucinating he was Andre Agassi. He panted, fearing he was late for a match with Pete Sampras. We sat in the waiting room reading Come On All You Ghosts, which it turns out is full of The Father as both an articulated and a whitespace presence. The patient's wife said, in an idle moment, "Let's face it, we have no idea what a prostitute would wear." The patient's heart is weak but thumps along; he is moved to the less-scary part of the hospital, where he is finally allowed to hold his grandchild, a cheerful little man named Tubby Buxom. I arrive home and feel reconstituted, like a Salisbury steak you would eat in jail.

We thank you for your thoughts.

4 comments:

Whimsy said...

I hope he continues to do well, Trish.

Patricia Lockwood said...

Thank you baby. Congrats on your acceptance! Online submissions are THE BEST

Admiral Farragut said...

My hopes for a full recovery and a triumph over Sampras. Tubby Buxom is the best Charles Dickens character ever. It's pretty easy to know what a prostitute would wear - every town has a catwalk where they display their fashion savvy. My experience with jails has been that it is the eggs which are most often reconstituted, although in the Dallas County Jail, Dallas, they serve fresh eggs on Sunday. The inmates will fight with shanks over those fresh eggs. Learn to love toast.

Patricia Lockwood said...

TUBBY BUXOM is also a sort of misheard Teddy Ruxpin, I feel