![]() ![]() ![]() "I'm telling you," he shouts, "it's the military industrial prison complex. High-five! There's also a man doing laps around the cafeteria, shouting into a cell phone. I can't make out what they're celebrating. Some patients down at the other end of the table keep high-fiving each other. "Where's he based, this promiscuous pediatrician?" The crap she puts up with boggles the mind." "She's so hard to talk to sometimes because her logic is so flawed. ![]() One of the doctors across the table from me is eating a bowl of strawberries while she tells another doctor about a third doctor's relationship with, it seems, a fourth doctor. I've seen no death today in this cafeteria. I have also come here today because I'm following up on a notion that in a hospital I'm closer to death than when I sit distracted in other places. I've been thinking about Chekhov, or trying to. I'm in the cafeteria of San Francisco General Hospital. Hadn't my own experience taught me that no word can say as much as silence? On the Beauty of Not Writing or An Unnecessary Homage to Juan Rulfo, ![]()
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