When we get to the waiting room, our lucky seats are taken. We end up beside a talker. “All my teeth fell out, and my bones are disintegrating,” she tells my wife and explains it kills the good with the bad, but at least it’s kept her alive. “They call it Red Devil. It’s made from a plant in the rainforest.” She smiles when she says that they should call it something soothing like “Flower Power.” She goes on and on. I want to do everything in my power to rescue my wife. But our lucky seats are still taken.
David Henson and his wife reside in Illinois. His work has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes.