By S.T. Myers
What she should have done was get back to work.
Pick up the blaring phones.
Check the eighty-seven orders in the queue.
Administer shots to the patients lined up.
Answer questions about cough syrup from a mother at the counter.
Instead, she reached into the pocket of her white coat and fished around for the three little pills.
Oxycodone.
Diazepam.
Soma.
Examined them in her palm.
Without thinking, she popped them into her mouth and swallowed hard. A sigh escaped as her shoulders fell.
The fluorescent lights began fading in and out.
Soon the lights—and her pain—would be gone.
This is a good topical story.
Perfectly illustrates the stress that not just pharmacists but front-line workers all over the country are under. Well done.
Great!
Well done. The struggle is real.
Thanks for your feedback! My first submission here.
So it is, the heart of America as we know it now.