32 King St.

It was around 7pm. James was biting his fingernails. Occasionally looking at his watch and at the other people in the room. Mostly around late 40's and 50. They were all letting themselves go. Balding, fat, sweaty, and wheezing. A constant wheezing sound. Like a malfunctioning air conditioner, or the opening and closing of a door from an old abandoned building. It seemed like everyone was looking at each other. Everyone was nervous, and they all knew why they were all there. Every 30 minutes a small doctor in a white lab coat would open the door at one corner of the room and call someones name. Each time, James made a motion with his arms as if he was next, half way standing up, only having to sit down again in his chair. James was starting to bleed from his pointer finger nail. He had bitten it down into the quick. It didn't sting. He was too preoccupied with his name being called. Almost as soon as the clock hit 7:15pm the small doctor with the white lab coat opened the door to the wheezing room and called James in. James has already begun to walk over as soon as he heard the doorknob turn. "Come this way Mr. Zinger." The small doctor led James into a room about the same size as the inside of an RV. A long room, with large cabinets on each side only leaving a few feet of space to walk through. They led James all the way down the narrow room and sat him down on a bare metal table. It was cold to the touch. When James put his hands down on the table, his fingertips stuck to it pulling the skin a little when he lifted them back up and put them on his lap. The small doctor disappeared into a doorway opposite where James sat. He was gone for a long time. James almost got up and went to see what was taking so long, but before he could decide the small doctor came through the door way with a syringe and a bottle of clear liquid. The small doctor stuck the needle into the top of the bottle and pulled the end filling the up syringe with the clear liquid. He stopped when the syringe was half full and put down the bottle onto one of the large cabinets behind him. The small doctor pushed the end of the syringe in a little until some of the clear liquid came out and squirted onto the floor. "Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit." The small doctor rolled up James sleeve, then poured some other kind of liquid onto a cotton ball and rubbed the cotton ball on James' arm. He stuck the needle into James' arm where he rubbed the cotton ball, and pushed in the end of the syringe until it was empty. The small doctor then proceeded to put the syringe, and both bottles of clear liquid into a black bag and walked out of the room without a word. Assuming it was all over, James rolled down his sleeve and walked down the long, narrow room, and back out into the wheezing sweat lodge. He opened up the door to the street and continued to walk down the street towards his car.