Monday February 13th, 2012

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: the pharmacy.

It almost felt like spring today. More of that please.

Mine:

Edgar unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights. It wasn't a large shop, just three rows of over-the-counter medicines and a booth at the back for prescriptions.

It was here that Edgar would spend the next ten hours, standing on aching feet and having his ear talked off by lonely pensioners.

There would be no one to give him a break, not even for lunch. He'd been forced to fire Joanne after he discovered that she doled out prescriptions with a firm belief in the 'one for you, one for me' system.

Pinning his name tag to his shirt with a resigned sigh, Edgar began his daily count. Only 598 minutes to go.

5 Comments:

Greg said...

Winter seems to be have been quite short this year, though I suppose it's not officially over yet. It's warming up here too, which is kind of right for February, but still feels like Winter never got a proper turn.
Heh, he should just have kept Joanne on; with that policy on prescriptions she'd have poisoned herself pretty quickly! Have her serve all the constipated customers....

The Pharmacy
"It's a pharmacy," said the Green Lightbulb, causing both Dr. Septopus and Sylvestra to look up and carefully check the Powerpoint presentation he was showing. For once he appeared to have gotten the right word, and the picture on the screen was indeed of a pharmacy.
"Well done Green!" Dr. Septopus was being overly jolly and encouraging whenever the Green Lightbulb got something right. Green appeared not to have noticed yet, but since he was still in his wheelchair Dr. Septopus didn't think this was much of an issue.
"It's Mr. Brannigan's pharmacy," said Sylvestra, squinting. "You remember, the guy who thought that if you took enough drugs you could fly."
"He does fly, doesn't he?" asked Dr. Septopus, his beak clacking softly as he thought.
"Ye-es," said Sylvestra. "Though more because he grew wings and his legs dropped off."
"A pharmacy," said Green, speaking over them and sounded irked, "is a false belief with a degree of conviction behind it, and should be stamped out wherever it is found."
Dr. Septopus and Sylvestra exchanged glances, and they both started to stand up. The powerpoint presentation transitioned to the next slide, which showed a large, beige tank in the middle of the rubble of what had been the pharmacy.
"Like this," continued Green, oblivious to the fact that the other two were descending on him again, with a straight-jacket and a smothering pillow.

Cathryn Leigh said...

@Marc - poor Edgar, he needs to find a compatable assistant.

@Greg - the crazy crew shows up again! *giggles*

HM.. a Phrmacy.. I wonder, does Vervell have an equivalent, let me stroll down the streets of Verdas and find out *Wayne's world dream sequence motions*


Finding a Pharmacy in Verdas

After an hour of trying to explain what she was looking to Jessica for Sarah braved going outside, despite her migrane, to see if any one could help her.

Of course the Scout barraks were deserted, so going to Kevin, was out of the question. If he wasalive. Sarah was having trouble remembering who all made it through in Phoenix triumphant, the migrane had addled her brain so much.

Next time I see Elo's friend Spook I'm going to give her what for, for teaching my author how to torment characters, Sarah thought.

Slowly walking down the city stair, hat pulled neraly over her eyes Sarah glared at each Scout pair that she passed. they didn't really deserve it, but she wasn't about to try and explain pharmacy to them. If she could just rmember what the archaic term had been.

It came to her in a flash as she exited the stair path on the Merchant Level of the city. Of course seeing the Mortar and Pestle sign right across the road helped. Who ever owned that shop had perfect placement in Sarah's mind.

A bell rang softly as Sarah walked through the door and a young woman came from out of the back.

"Welcome to Morgan's Apothicary. What can I do for you?"

Krystin Scott said...

Murphy stumbled, fell and landed face down on the pavement. He just lay there for a few moments, while passers by stepped over him or changed course to avoid him completely. Which ever action they took it was obvious no one saw the man in dirty rags lying at their feet as a person worth their time or effort. Eventually Murphy rolled over on his back to look up at the sky before getting up and starting down the street again.

A half an hour later he arrived at the familiar oak door and knocked loudly. Soon he heard the clamor of heeled shoes coming toward him as they walked down the long tiled hall within. The door creaked open and the head of Father Ryan appeared.

“Ah, Murphy.” Father Ryan said as he looked Murphy over and opened the door further.
“Come inside, I’ll get you some food and we can talk.” Murphy nodded and entered the building.
“Have you decided?” Father Ryan asked quizzically as they walked to his office. Murphy nodded again, and then his head hung low between his shoulders.

“Alright it’s settled then. Sister Alice already has a bed ready for you. I’ll start the paperwork. Once you sign and agree that you’re committed to the program, you can attend the Drug Assisted Detox workshop and start the process as early as tomorrow morning. Doctor Phillips runs a clinic out of one of the offices here at the mission. Last door on the right hand side is where you’ll find him. Take this paper and bring it to him. He will be responsible for adjusting your dosage and administering your medication. Be at the pharmacy every morning at 8:00am. If you miss two sessions, he will drop you from the program.
Do you understand?”

Murphy looked into the eyes of Father Ryan and with great sincerity replied “Yes Sir”. At least that’s what Father Ryan thought he heard; it was impossible to be sure the way the syllables had slurred together. But he took it as a good sign, smiled and slapped Murphy on the back by way of encouragement. “Good Luck Son.”

Grondzilla said...

Malcolm sat down on the rocks and let the sweat cool on his brow as the lake breeze blew onshore. He leaned back into the food pack and felt it's not inconsiderable weight even while it was sitting on the ground. Inwardly he groaned a little. The thought of wrestling into the carrying straps and then heaving the tump strap onto his forehead was not filling him with joy.

Still, there it was. The pack wasn't going to haul itself over the portage and the other fellows had already pulled the canoe and were wrestling its mammoth weight over the rocky ground. He and Johnston and McIvoy were in the process of gathering the crew's packs and paddles and life-jackets. Even so, it was going to require two trips, at least.

As the three organized their gear into two piles Malcolm felt the cold creeping down from his head and into his chest. The thought of spending the remaining six days of their canoe trip, out in the middle of nowhere forced an audible sigh out of him. Before anyone could comment however another brigade arrived at the landing with the prerequisite tumult and chatter. Paddles and packs and gear flew out of the canoe and laughter and jibes flew from the paddlers.

Malcolm put his head down and proceeded to wrestle himself into the food pack. After managing to heave himself upright he realized that he was sweating profusely from just that effort. He swore.

A pair of hiking boots became evident in his limited field of vision. Carrying an eighty pound load on your back with a tump strap on your forehead meant you got to spend a lot of quality time seeing, rocks and roots and feet. These particular boots were painted bright green. The owner of the feet squatted down and looked up under the brim of Malcolm's ball cap. It was Leroy. Leroy was from the wrong side of the tracks. Leroy flashed a full set of teeth at Malcolm.

“Dude, word is that your crashing into a cold pretty hard. That sucks.”

He looked around, a bit dramatically, and then dropped into a conspiratorial whisper.

“Don't sweat it man.” He patted his vest. “The Pharmacy is Open!”

Marc said...

Greg - well, I don't think he'd care for an employee death in the middle of a shift. After hours though...

Hey! Good to see the gang again, it's been too long :D

Cathryn - the whole thing was made better by the dream sequence hands :D

Hmm, seems there's some death and destruction ahead of me. I better get reading before you spoil something for me :P

Krystin - very nicely crafted. Sounds like Murphy is in good hands.

GZ - great descriptions and atmosphere. I could definitely feel Malcolm's pain.