Doctor Hansel came into the waiting room. The lights were dim, and the chairs were vacant. Across the street, through the front window, he watched an old couple walk a small, orange dog. They each wore yellow rain slickers. Their hoods were down. The old man bent down to tie a shoe, but the woman continued.
“Looking for someone, doctor?” asked Janet.
“No, just looking. Nothing’s going on back there.”
Janet got up and came around her desk. She sat in the front row. She leaned back, kicked her legs out, and reached above her head.
“Oooooh.”
“Ready for bed?” asked Hansel.
“Oh, no,” replied Janet, “it’s just cramped back there. Nowhere to move.”
“Yeah, must’ve been built for kids.”
Janet chuckled. “Not for me, that’s for sure.”
Hansel walked to the back of the room. The front door was locked. He returned and sat on the edge of Janet’s desk.
“Business has been slow,” said Hansel.
“I don’t suppose that’s so bad.”
“Maybe,” said Hansel. “But, we need the cash.”
Janet laughed silently. “The clients never pay.”
“Yeah. Dead beats all.”
A low sun shone through the front window. On the floor, the signage fell in reverse, “secivreS yrautroM.”
