neighborly
"good moooorniing, doctor!"
it's one of my neighbors. she lives a few doors down.
she is a couple decades older than i am, and very round. i've never really spoken with her; i suppose she knows what i do because of my white coat or scrubs.
i've long sensed that something is not quite right with her. the absent-minded look on her face. the way she hovers by her door. the way that the man she lives with (relative? spouse?) assumes a frustrated, protective posture and rushes her back inside. the frequency with which i see him bringing pizza boxes home.
but on a nice morning, she is out in her white sneakers, enjoying the sun. she sees me.
the enthusiasm of her sing-songy greeting, the pure candor of her smile, the sense that she is actually, for some reason, happy that she has seen me— all give me a really neighborly feeling toward her.
i put a little extra cheer in my voice as i greet her good morning. then i get in my car and drive away.
i hope her life is okay.
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