june 5 mfj

There was a doctor, but he couldn’t see her. Her voice came from behind him. It was nice but very clinical. She wanted to be taken seriously and enunciated like it. He had a tendency to mumble, so he understood. She asked him to name five blue things he could see. “One: that kid’s backpack, the one with the cartoon whale on it. Two: the garbage truck that’s driving by. Three: the jean jacket on the coat rack. Four: your iPhone case.” Panic. Dread. A silence so loud he wanted to stab his eardrums with the ballpoint on the table. “Five: Uh, uh, uh.” That’s only four. That’s only four. That’s only four. That’s only four. That’s only four. “Five! Uhhhhhhhhh.” Five! Find it now! Find it now! Find it now! Find it now! Find it right fucking now you useless fuck! But he couldn’t. And then the doctor was standing in front of him. She was holding a handgun. She was raising the handgun. She was pointing it at his face. Because now Kenny had to die. Kenny shot up in bed. He didn’t scream but he…