We’ve got the results, Mr Harrison, and I’m pleased to say that there’s nothing amiss in your stomach. Take the painkillers we gave you and if it hasn’t cleared up...
… are in, Mr Harrison, and there’s nary a spot in your chest. The pea plant was an anomaly, and the chances of a wee creature? Not to...
…don’t know what to tell you, Mr Harrison. There’s nothing in your throat to explain the clawing sensation; it’s not what the booklet’ll tell ye, but gargling with...
Mr Harrison? Mr Harrison? Easy, lie still. There’s nothing in your mouth, Mr -
… are in, Mr Harrison, and there’s nary a spot in your chest. The pea plant was an anomaly, and the chances of a wee creature? Not to...
…don’t know what to tell you, Mr Harrison. There’s nothing in your throat to explain the clawing sensation; it’s not what the booklet’ll tell ye, but gargling with...
Mr Harrison? Mr Harrison? Easy, lie still. There’s nothing in your mouth, Mr -
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Date: 2010-11-05 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-04 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-04 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-11-04 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-04 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-05 12:14 am (UTC)*clings to stuffed fuzzy*
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Date: 2010-11-05 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-11-05 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-05 09:46 am (UTC)This is ... what can I say? Masterly. Horrible. (In a very good way, obviously). And totally creepy.
I am filled with admiration for the way you've harnessed the brain's ability to extrapolate from a few details. I now have in my mind weeks and weeks of this man's terrors and torments, doctor after doctor humouring him with varying degrees of patience and compassion. X-rays, trolleys, white coats: you name it, you've invoked it.
I've just had a quick look around your journal and damn, I wish I could write like you do!
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Date: 2010-11-07 04:34 pm (UTC)