The physical metamorphosis of healing.more
They pinch and prod him. Children ask to feel his muscles. Women run their hands on his chest, feeling the shape and firmness—something none of them have ever felt in their own men. They giggle like high school girls. Beau smiles and nods and hugs and says “yes sir” more times than Anna Carol can count.more
I found my father’s bed at the end of the corridor. A nurse held his pallid arm up to the light. She adjusted one of the tubes and lowered his arm back to his side. In the neighboring bed, a man older than my father was connected to beeping monitors. He followed me with his eyes. Landis and my mom turned their heads as the nurse walked out.
“What are you doing here?” asked Landis.more
“Before I knew what I was doing, I chucked the banana. A lifetime of frustration with this team boiled over in that instantmore