Friday, November 13, 2015

Nanowrimo - Friday the 13th

It was still raining.  It had been raining for at least thirty-six hours and by the sound of the water pouring off the eaves it wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. 

She heard the furnace kick on, and the thud of the cat as he jumped off the bed and headed for the back door. 

Ok, ok, she thought as she rummaged around for her slippers.  Ok. Ok.

She opened the door and his highness peered out into the rain and then looked at her accusingly. 
Yah, like the rain is my fault. 

She remembered the Bradbury novel about the cat looking for the door into summer. 
Is that what she was doing this month?  Looking for the door into summer? 
Not summer. 
But definitely a door. 

She nudged his back end out the door and shut it with resolve.
It was Friday the thirteenth.  She had never felt this was ominous or particularly auspicious (she did love that word), but today she felt it was a harbinger of some kind.

It was too early, but she did have those students waiting for her, and then she had her compassion and empathy group.  Both of those before noon.

She glanced at the calendar and there it was written in black.
Dentist.  1pm
Well that seems perfect for Friday the 13th she thought.  She hated going to the dentist.  Not because she had an aversion to the procedures – although she had had her share of root canals and crowns, fillings and extractions. She hated the dentist because the hygienists always made her feel like a naughty five year-old who needed to be taught a lesson.

When she was little there was no such thing as flossing – You brushed your teeth, in the morning, and that was that.  Occasionally her mother would give her these odd little red pills to chew after brushing and it would dye all the places you hadn’t brushed properly. Then you had this red dye in your mouth so everyone could see you failed at brushing your teeth.

Her parents never insisted she brush her teeth before bed either.  When did that become a thing?
She did remember early visits to the dentist – and he didn’t believe (or her mother couldn’t afford?) freezing so if you had a cavity you just put up with the pain whenever a nerve was hit.

Once in university, and responsible for paying her way, she learned that the cost of freezing was very minimal and she made the very adult decision to do just that if a cavity was needing to be filled.  Much more humane and civilized.

But flossing?  The hygienists were always after her to do a better job brushing and flossing.  She tried, she really did, but it just wasn’t on her radar. 
Lately she had been more focused on flossing , because she had discovered these floss sticks she really liked, so maybe today she would be treated like an adult.

The worse part was she wouldn’t stand up for herself with these people.  She should tell them not to treat her like that, but instead she swallowed the shame, willed back the tears, and just sucked it up.
Not good.

Not good at all. 


  1. please keep going. I'm admirative of your writting stamina. And writing fiction, to me it seems it's the hardest thing one could ever write.

    1. Thank you dear one. I am not sure it is really fiction, but I am enjoying the challenge.


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