"Simplification" | Part 1 of 3
In the end, there were forty red slashes. It was done.
Table of Contents:
Simplification Part 1
Abigail Beckman avoided the mirror.
“I assure you, Ms. Beckman,” the doctor said, “we’ve had far more severe cases than yours. But are you certain you’d like to proceed?”
“Yes,” said Abigail, watching the doctor avoid watching her.
“And you are fully aware that the procedure is irreversible?”
“Yes.”
“And, well… the cost?”
“Yes, yes,” said Abigail with a wave of a French-tipped hand.
“Okay then.” The doctor scribbled into his tablet. “I’ve just sent the final orders to the receptionist desk. You’ll be able to book the appointment on your way out.”
“Thank you.” Abigail slid off the table and walked toward the exam room door.
“Ms. Beckman?”
Abigail stopped and twirled on the balls of her feet. The movement sent her buoyant brunette curls springing upward, tickling the apples of her pink cheeks and catching the light where the brighter strands shone gold.
The doctor tore his gaze away from her face as he spoke.
“I stand by what I said before. You should go through a trial period. I recommend this phase of the procedure to all my patients. In fact, usually I insist. You’ve demonstrated particular urgency, so I’ve made an exception in your case, but it doesn’t change my medical opinion.”
“I know,” Abigail said, smiling at him. The palpitations in the doctor’s chest showed plainly on his face. “But we both know I couldn’t possibly change my mind,” she continued. “I mean, just look at me!”
And he did look. It was a relief to look. In his line of work, there was always an excess of not-looking, of cautious, constant returns to awareness: Looking too long? Not looking long enough? Focus just past her, taking little bits of her in the periphery—Oh! God! Did she notice? Now, he took a long, indulgent look, allowing his hungry eyes to swim across the ocean of her skin, lingering on particularly pleasing depths—he took gulps of her dark chocolate hair, sips of her golden eyes, tentative dips into her chest…
The doctor breathed deep into his diaphragm. “Like I said, your approval will be waiting—”
Abigail did something with her hair.
“Thank you, doctor,” she said. The door closed behind her.
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