Post by Philomela on Mar 7, 2012 7:34:43 GMT -5
Only the faintest tinge of whiskey lingered on the tongue of Doctor Ichabod Wells this fine morning, & so he unprofessionally chewed on a stick of spearmint gum as he went about making a neat circle of white chairs in the Day Room. He had prepared strenuously for his first day of work, buttoning his cufflinks, ironing his stark-white lab coat, & slicking down his hair, but already the tresses were beginning to go rogue on his scalp like Robert Smith, circa 1986.
This new job had created a great deal of stress in the twitchy-fingered scarecrow of a man. He was suspicious, yet grateful at the lack of background check or previous experience. So he had returned to his office for a few shots of Jack before preparing for the group therapy.
The shiftiness in his brown eyes had slowed, his hands steadied on his clipboard, & he took a seat in the circle to wait for his patients.
This new job had created a great deal of stress in the twitchy-fingered scarecrow of a man. He was suspicious, yet grateful at the lack of background check or previous experience. So he had returned to his office for a few shots of Jack before preparing for the group therapy.
The shiftiness in his brown eyes had slowed, his hands steadied on his clipboard, & he took a seat in the circle to wait for his patients.