Heart Specialist

I approach the white Formica counter


To be examined

To be seen

She is looking down deep into her keyboard

Her painted fingers so adept that I can feel them tickling me

Waiting to be seen

I wait

She looks up

A shock-wave of warm air fills my lungs and I cannot exhale

Her eyes widen

She smiles,

And I wonder why I am floating as in a dream

And I wonder why I cannot remember my name

Or why I am here

Or if I just died

Not that it matters