I gasp at the touch of the stethoscope, then close my eyes and think of the beach and being with Josie so I don’t have to look at the poster of the Damage Smoking Can Do to Your Lungs wagging its finger at me from across the room, while the doctor instructs me to take another deep breath, with which he seems to be in perverse synchrony, like a sleeping beast at the bottom of a chasm, or like the dog that I never had because of those looks my parents gave saying Absolutely Not, and I take another breath.
Pam Plumb is a teacher and writer of short stories, and is working on a crime novel. She is a Pushcart nominee for one of her stories. Twitter: @pamjplumb