Tuesday’s tale, 7/14/2015.

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Well, no one answered me. Not a single one of you. So I guess it’s my choice. So strap in, we’re going as weird as we can be. Five minutes on the clock, and here we go!

He came to all at once; there was no consciousness swimming up from darkened waters for him. Not this time, at least. He stared up at the white tile ceiling and wondered why he was at the clinic for a second, then it all came crashing back.

He had been shot at, been injured, but not badly. He had been hunted but had escaped. Then he had suddenly… just felt sick? Had he been poisoned?

“Ahh, you’re awake. Good.”

He looked; it was his doctor; the only one he let examine him, under any circumstances. The only one he truly trusted, because he knew where the doctor’s bodies were buried. This was no time to engage in pleasantries, or mince words.

“How bad?”

The doctor responded in kind.

“There is some sort of foreign material in your system, but it’s not any poison I know of. And I know most of them. I was able to isolate the point of entry, however. Your hands. No needle marks or cuts, so I must assume it was cutaneous transfer. Tell me, have you touched anything unusual lately without gloves?”

There we go; 4 minutes 42 seconds. See you all next time!

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