|Puddle, 1952, M. C. Escher|
The tired, prematurely gray-haired man looked at the floor for a few more minutes before answering.
"I don't know doc. I guess I've been feelin' blue. I know what I need to do but I've not much energy about nothing."
"You said you've been married a long time. Do you love your wife?"
The man clutched his hat and looked straight ahead. "Yes, doc. My family is the best thing that ever happened to me."
Doctor Wellis raised an eyebrow. Suddenly the silence became uncomfortable. The man began to squirm.
"Look", said the doctor."I could take your money, give you a tonic and send you on your way. But that wouldn't help you much would it?"
The man blushed. Finally he whispered. "No, doc."
"I can't help you out of your puddle if you won't be straight with me. Now tell me what you really want."
It took some time before the man could open his mouth. "I want to move back East. Back home. Build a hut somewhere lonesome, all by myself. Tend a garden." Suddenly his eyes watered. It took all his manly pride to keep those tears tucked in there.
Doctor Wellis continued to gaze the man unruffled. Then he started writing. The man received the prescription with only the slightest hint of a disappointment, until he read what was on the paper.
"Walk an hour a day?"
"Yes. If it gets too bad make it two hours. Come and see me in three months."
This is a Mag & Trifecta post.