02 03 The Rhineheart Roost: Canterbury Tales. 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

Canterbury Tales.

I know, I know, this is going to be soooo boring, but I wanted to post my creative essay here for posterity. (also, I need you to judge me. How'd I do?) Here goes nothing!
Doctor, Doctor! A Canterbury Tale.
                “The doctor will see you now.” Those words alone have the power to send chills up and down your spine. As you rise out of your seat, placing the wrinkled magazine back onto the table, you can feel the others staring you down, trying in vain to guess your ailment. You really can’t blame them, for that’s the whole reason you’re here in the first place; and what a relief to know that your doctor knows what he’s doing! At least you won’t be judged by your astronomical sign, and bled to restore balance to your humors… Right?
                As you follow the cheerful nurse through the doors, you notice that the doctor’s office has been renovated since last you walked the sterile halls. Instead of pamphlets with smiling people on the front, you see strange, almost mystical charts nailed to the wall, written in extravagant, unreadable font. Rather than cotton balls, tongue depressors, and syringes, you see yellowish strips of cloth, a mortar and pestle, and a jar of what you can only hope are not leeches.
                Suddenly, your doctor bursts through the door, wearing something you’d see only at a Renaissance fair. Consulting various thickly-bound books, your doctor makes short work of your diagnosis. After discerning “his patient’s favorable star”, and uttering a few charms, he concludes that the best course of action is to prescribe a certain tonic, which he appoints to his apothecaries. While they are busily preparing said tonic, your doctor turns back and smiles. Reaching for the jar on his table, he happily explains that you will be bled in four places.
                As he pulls out four moist, undulating black monstrosities from his jar, your vision becomes hazy and you begin to sway.
                “This shouldn’t hurt too bad,” the man says as the leeches cut into your flesh, slowly sucking away your consciousness…
                You jolt awake, starting out of your chair and frightening everyone in the waiting room. As you look around, you notice with relief the blinking fluorescent lights, the smooth jazz playing softly in the background, and, most importantly, the nurse. Standing with her jaw slightly agape, she asks again for the next patient. Realizing it’s you, you shuffle sheepishly forward, trying to ignore the burning stares and your burning cheeks. Patting you slowly on the back, the young nurse gently leads you to the back of the room, where cotton balls, tongue depressors, and syringes sit in abundance, their shiny glass jars glinting like teeth in the light. You heave a sigh of relief as you realize, once and for all, that it was all merely a dream.

                “The doctor will see you now,” the nurse assures you with a smile, and as she leaves, you notice an astronomy chart on the wall.

There you have it! Hope it's not too horrid...



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