I slide through the door swung open by the janitor. It closes with a metallic shudder.
On the first day of my psychiatry rotation I was anxious, and like most students I worried. I worried I would not have anything to say and I worried I would say too much. I worried I would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and I worried that my words would be more consequential than I ever intended them to be. I worried about my worry.
A Silver Bullet / The tiny guns held by my little action figures / still remind me of that god forsaken trigger.