Unbound: a collection of stories

Abstract

I've never heard anyone scream like that. I spoke to her a few minutes before, in the little room where I draw the blood. She made a joke of some kind; I don't remember it now. I guess that must have been a sign of her nervousness--a high-pitched little laugh, almost giddy. Then she went off to the room where they do the procedure. A few minutes later, I heard it. She was crying out, ―No!‖ like some kind of bird--like a mother bird, diving to protect her nest. That's what I imagined for some reason. And then it was silent. The anesthesia. I was surprised that they went through with it after such a protest, but I suppose they thought it was just drug-induced hysteria. So they did it.