I was on my eighth headache of the week when my boss finally made me make a doctor's appointment.

I'm a reporter, so the majority of my work is done on the computer. It makes sense that

my eyes might get a little strained. I was nervous in the waiting room, one because it

was a new place, castle optometry, and the southern quarter of Habitsville, and two because

it had been an embarrassingly long time since I had been in. I'm terrible about heating

up with my appointments, and apparently, so as everyone else in Habitsville, seeing as it

was Monday morning and the waiting room was completely empty. That being said, the office

seemed pleasant. Clean, non-threatening. I know that may be a strange quality to search

for in an optometrist office, but you haven't seen the things I've seen. They were framed

paintings around, idyllic scenes of the countryside goats, in a pasture and apple tree.

Then the weird eye diagrams you see in most places. Something about the small town

acquaintance seemed to ease my nerves, and I wondered if they did that on purpose.

Sanger? That was me. A man stood in the doorway to the exam room, smiling at me with a normal,

white tooth grin of most doctors. He looked to be in his 40s with lightly tan skin and an

inconspicuously receding hairline. If you Google Doctor, this is probably the guy that

would show up. With a white lab coat and everything.

Hello, Samuel. He said, after checking his chart, I'm Doctor Castle. How are we doing

today? He asked as he led me farther into the other side of the building. It was strange.

I had assumed that there would be at least one other person here besides the two of us,

but all that we passed by were darkened exam room after darkened exam room. The only

sound was the air conditioner and our two sets of footsteps against the linoleum tile.

Good, answered. Glad to hear it. Monday, is it my right? He laughed, clearly fake laugh.

...