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.