On the Operating Table

Ryan lay on the operating table, partially sedated and dazed from rushing across
town in an ambulance.  His problem was heart failure brought on by a congenital heart defect.  The surgeon touched him gently on the arm and said, deep compassion in her voice, “I never operate on anyone I don’t know.  My name is Mary.  Pleased to meet you.”

Ryan looked in her warm, caring eyes and said, “We’ve already met.  I’ve held you in my arms.”

The expression on her face shifted, the compassion replaced with distaste.

He added, “We’ve danced together.  At the
Arthur Murray studio. My best dance is the mambo.”

 

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