Confidence

My neck was squeaking like mice in an old sofa. And it had been doing this since I had awoken in the morning, with no sign that it was going to simply click into place like I had been hoping. So, out came the cervical collar. I slapped it on over my hair, little caring how it looked. I could fix my hair later. Besides, it isn't like no one isn't going to notice it no matter what. Eventually, people get used to seeing me with bits of gear, depending on the trouble of the day.

A lovely young woman came in to the office a moment later, asking for her paperwork. But she didn't have her official identification. She'd been in before, and we'd let it slide once but couldn't again. She really didn't want to have a picture made, not like she is right now. "How much longer with the eye patch?" "At least two more months. Do I really need to get it made now?"

I was trying to think if I dared assume the authority to grant another extension. "Oh," she asked, "are you alright? What happened?" "Huh? Oh, yeah. Nothing happened. Sometimes I have to wear this. It's how I am. It's OK. ....Your ID, you know, you really need it."

She smiled. "It's fine. I'll get it."