My sister spat and hissed. After

considerable soul-searching,

she admitted to a problem.

We wait in Dr. Shu’s expensive rooms.

My sister squirms on the faux leather

couch. Dr. Shu then asks a series of

beautifully-framed personal questions.

My sister opens like a bud, divulging her

entire history in purple prose. Dr. Shu is

more magician then medical professional.

My sister agrees to weekly consultations

and a course of appetite-enhancing

drugs. I will admit to feeling slightly

discomforted in the presence of miracles.


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