by Eric Beeny



Desmond, earlier in his life, about a few months ago, was a bit of an alcoholic.

His primary physician, Dr. Coffin, was getting somewhat concerned about this interesting side note of Desmond's past, and tried to intervene.

Desmond was getting sick a lot, he wasn't sleeping, and his primary physician, Dr. Coffin, could smell alcohol on his breath even during his last check-up visit.

Desmond's primary physician, Dr. Coffin, suggested he quit drinking, that it's not good for his health.

Dr. Coffin reached into a drawer, one of many in this big white dresser beside the padded patient table covered with tracing paper Desmond was sitting on.

He pulled out an unlabeled bottle of pills and closed the drawer, shaking the pills around like pills in an empty bottle.

"I'm going to recommend you quit drinking," he said.

"What?" Desmond said.

"It's not good for your health."

Desmond cocked his head to the side and crunched his eyebrows together over the bridge of his nose.

His primary physician, Dr. Coffin, popped the cap off, shook a couple pills out and handed them to Desmond.

"Here, take these," his primary physician, Dr. Coffin, said.

Desmond put his hand out, catching the pills in his palm.

"What are they for?" Desmond asked.

"They'll help you stop medicating yourself."