The Other Me
‘The Good Doctor’ ii. I got to the hospital, checked in, and took a seat. It was just me and a nurse in the waiting-room. The amount of people always varied in this waiting room. Being crazy must’ve been a seasonal thing. Then the nurse left, and I was alone. I sat back. Ran my finger down the contour of the plastic chair to the right of me. Wondered how long I’d have to wait. And then felt like I was shoved, only I was still sitting in the same spot. What had been shunted from me – shunted as it’d been pounded out of me by a speeding train…
The Other Me
‘Interim – Normal’ How normal am I? It’s not a question most ask, especially as they’re growing up. Instead, it’s usually a case of trying to be somebody – one of the cool kids, popular, good at something (and usually something fashionable, like sport), but I had these things to varying degrees. They were never a question. The question was always, How normal am I? The fourth son of immigrant parents, who – like a lot immigrant parents – loved you immeasurably, would do anything for you, but were overwhelmingly pessimistic, materialistic and focused on the importance of stature (particularly when comparing with others), shouted lots to communicate, weren’t emotionally…