All seven were just arguing amongst themselves. Their behaviors oddly familiar from Skilled Nursing / Adult Psych medical days… and somewhere else. It wasn’t long though before they began to read like textbooks, and then with an ample measure of dismay, it hit me. Although I’d come across patients on the unit suffering from this time to time, the last alcoholic I had to seriously deal with I’d been married to: my second, or was it third, eh, who’s counting, ex-husband. Just terrific. My, or better, an ex in drag.
I gruesomely pondered who had dropped dead and had now joined the conversation fueled by Rioja.
The prompt is:
…all seven were just arguing amongst themselves…