parlour games

i took two of the quick-release ibuprofen and put something a little stronger in my pocket before heading out the door. i didn’t know what to expect and i was nervous.

i tried to ignore everyone else there. the bald dude at the counter kinda wrinkled his forehead when i told him what i wanted. i got distracted, trying to tell where his forehead stopped and his scalp started. he pulled out a book. ugh, i didn’t want anything out of the book. i can’t draw, but i drew something for him, and had a couple of sample art pieces to show the general ideas. the line, i said. the overall line is really important. the cartoon lightbulb that suddenly turned on over him reflected its light off his shiny pate and onto my face as he lowered his head and sketched exactly what i wanted. we both were pleased.

“you’re little. this is big,” he said.

i know. that’s what i’m going for.

“it’ll be like a mural.” his eyes brightened just a little. i wasn’t sure whether i should be scared or relieved.

yeah.

“you have any others?”

no.

“you ready?”

ugh, as ready as i’ll ever be. i know too much. too much about viruses, and skin, and blood, and infections. and i know little about pain.

so there i was, on my belly, heart pounding with the anxiety of knowing that there was no turning back (tapocketapocketapocketa...). he started, and honestly, it didn’t really hurt much. it was more annoying than anything. you know, a shallow, spreading pain. it reminded me of when i was five and allergy tests were done— eighty pricks with a little screwdriver all across my back. i itched for hours afterward. i had a feeling i’d be able to handle this at twenty-eight. the little pains started up on my left shoulderblade, and worked their way down and to the right.

he was being careful. i’ve always loved surprises, and have typically been very good at waiting for them, but this time the suspense was killing me. i shut my eyes and tried to imagine how things were coming together. branches, blooms, ripples of water appeared before my closed eyes, etched in white and pain and pink and brown and blood and blue. pain then blossomed on my right hip, and i started to get really excited because i knew he was almost done. i wondered what i’d feel like in the morning. and then,

“that’s it. i’ll leave so you can have a look.”

the curtain fell closed again, and i stayed where i was, prone, for just a bit longer, my skin throbbing a little. i grabbed my jacket and held it in front of me as i stepped toward the mirror and turned. which shoulder to look over first? left or right? right. i turned my head.

i lie. none of this happened at all.
yep. made it all up. every word of it. wait, except for the allergy testing thing. that did happen.

what?