Text Illustrations

by Mary Sullivan

I marked upon my calendar

with smug efficiency,

the time to go and see the doc

so he could study me.

I knew I’d be expected at

Two-Thirty on the dot.

Precisely at Two-Thirty-Three

I wheeled into the lot.

I flew out of the car and made

a beeline for the door.

(It’s not as if I’d never been

five minutes late before.)

I breathlessly explained about

how long the traffic took.

The lady at the desk just turned

a cool dismissive look.

"It really doesn’t matter,

he can’t see you anyway --

The time for your appointment

was Two-Thirty YESTERDAY!"

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