the scans hung up before him show a presacral mass, which he gazes silently upon for just a little bit too long after she asks what approach he thinks she should take to resect it. it’s hard to hear her over the whispering coming from his left, let alone concentrate on what she’s asked him long enough to answer. hand idly frees itself from his pocket to scratch behind his ear as if that will do anything to stop the noise.  ( it doesn’t. )  he glances in her direction for only a moment before umber hues return to the scans.

           ❛   what about a, uh —— a posterior approach? ——— YOU’RE doin’ the procedure, right? right on madison street. i kissed a girl named madison once. tasted kinda like cherries.   ❜

@brokenhcarts ; arizona