I asked her if she had been able to see my face -- if that small circle of glass just above my head was a camera. Apparently not. I wasn’t sold, though. It seemed like the right thing to tell a patient so they wouldn’t freak out about being stared at so closely, or filmed, or anything like that. The perfect punishment for the insecure. As if there’s any privacy there in the first place -- wearing just a gapingly awkward cotton gown over underwear, no jewelry or tattoos or metal in your eyes -- so many things to worry about -- and you’re getting your entire body scanned from every angle, inside and out. And I’m asking about a camera. Face it: It’s all in your head.
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justme
side note
While this blog's original purpose was to keep myself honest in my practice of doing daily justwrites-- 10-minute freewrites from some unusual starting points-- it has meandered to occasionally include other sorts of writing, to address other goals, and to even include other authors. Now, its main function is as a sort of verbal/ thought outcropping in public view. These are not polished pieces, and most are completely rough drafts. As some pieces may be developed through revision, your comments are most appreciated.
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