There were times during his thirty hour shift when Dr. Marcus swore the light would fade, and to this he would be compelled to add that even though there were several people around him at all times he still felt as if he was the only one there. What could be chalked up as fatique, or maybe even the occassional headache to him felt more and more, as time went on as something else; something not so pleasent.
Page after page he answered, the days draining into night and his workload swelling with drug addled homeless, domestic victims of various sorts, even a dog with bits of Human in it’s mouth. Time was rolling, he made it a point after each call to scrub and even went as far as to slip out back for a smoke now and then.
He tried to remember when he’d seen it this busy, after all their clinic wasn’t in the best of shape, especially after the incident with the boming. Yet try as he might the world just was and he had to do whatever he could to go along with it. Besides, it’s not as if any of this was reall…..
“Dr. Marcus?”
He shot up so quickly his head banged against the step above him.
“Fuck!” Stepping out from beneath the lower stairwell, rubbing his forhead and crumbling to him self Dr. David Marcus shot an incidious look at the interupting nurse before him.
“You’d better have a fairly fucking good reason for disturbing me.”
“Maybe,” snapped the overweight attendant in yellow scubs.
“Not that I’d need to give you one.”
“What do you want, Chris?”
“Your five o’clock phoned, they’ve said to go fuck yourself.” The nurse stood there smirking delightfully at his surly comments towards the good doctor.
“Tell you what,” returned Marcus,
“Take a beaker of that urine you mopped up from room 62 and wash the dick off your breath.” He shoved passed the lemon, tossing him a finger as he headed thru the double doors to the clinic,
“Then get your ass out to that house and get me my samples.”
Matthew Newton
DOC #81868
