Five minutes of fiction
If you call me fat, lazy and stupid there is a pretty good chance I won’t pay much attention to what you say.
Depending on who you are it might irk me a bit especially if you add a couple of lines about what you think my overall state of health is.
Chances are if you are not my doctor or a doctor with access to a full write up about me I won’t get real excited one way or another.
I don’t wear a sweater because you are cold or take off my jacket because you are hot.
Even if you share my bed it is unlikely you’ll get real far trying to convince me to change my ways in such a manner. You’re either trying to start a fight to build distance or you have forgotten who you are talking to.
That was all the time I had to write before they called me for my shots at the clinic.
I was a walk in.
Wasn’t any reason to make an appointment when they won’t book anything that isn’t 2-3 weeks out.
Took less than an hour to find a place that could take me and under 20 minutes once inside.
When I want to make things happen I am very good at what I do.
Eleven hours later I am a little tired but haven’t shown any signs of side effects. No fever, no real aches or pains, not even in my arms.
I was there. I didn’t just see what happened, I lived it.
So I know what was said and who said it. I know what promises were made and what choices were made because of it.
When they asked why I did what I did I said you can blame the devil in me or you can just accept I am an imperfect person.
You can choose to love, hate or ignore me. You won’t be the first or the last but I wouldn’t make rash decisions.
I see much and know more.
Do with that what you will.
And then things took a turn.
