The doctors office

The man named Ernest walked into the doctor’s office. His face was somber as he passed the sick patients waiting their turn. They shifted in the uncomfortable seats and flipped the pages of their newspaper the magazine they took off the rack. They watched the very tall man walk to the receptionist. Upon his approach, the decrepit lady in white, too tired to speak, nodded at Ernest to sign the clip board. He obliged and smiled the biggest smile he could muster at the old lady with the sun-burst colored hair.
Ernest walked towards the only empty seat in the waiting room. The man on the left looked at up Ernest and frowned. He was going to have to close his legs and free up the arm rest. The woman on the right gave a sheepish smile. She too was going to have to move her giant carcass over to make room for the newcomer. It smelled in her general vicinity and Ernest began to breathe through his mouth as he approached.
The people sitting there in Doctor Michael Namcova’s office, whether they realized it or not, were now a group. They were part of a whole that could be labeled. If one of the sick, sniffling, coughing, and generally miserable people surrounding Ernest wanted to, they could state matter-of-factly that they were a patient waiting in the doctor’s office.
All the patients would glance up and watch for any movement at the magic door. Somewhere behind the giant oak door that creaked as it was dragged across the carpet, there was a room where they could be alone; a bit of peace from the festering crowd that they were among now. They would have made it to the next level, as if they were living some kind of sick game that they had no control over. It didn’t even faze them that they would now have to wait in another room for the doctor to pop his head in. That didn’t matter; it was just fantastic that they would not have to be among the group.
Ernest was mad at himself for not bringing a book or a pad to doodle on. He looked at the magazine rack across the room and sighed. From the titles he could make out, there was nothing he was even remotely interested in.