“Done,” he says. I relax my arms and legs and toes and fingers from being clenched up on the dentist's chair. I take a deep breath and unsquinch my eyes. Let it out and shake uncontrolably.
"The novacaine is usually what makes you shakey for a while after" she screeches. She doesn't see me but I shoot an glare to my left. It's not right for me to hate them, but right now I need something to hate and someone to blame- just for the minute. I hate them, I hate needles in my mouth, people in my mouth, the cold weather, to-do lists, being positive, being negative, sleeping, not sleeping. Work is the only place I can be alone lately. Just me and Elliott.
After two plays of Figure 8, and a visit with Maura though, I'm back to my hopelessly positive self. Still, unattempted salt comes again. I can only cry at movies when animals get hurt. Humans pamper themselves too much and the ocean is too beautiful and vast of a thing to not cry about.
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