Fiction · Flash Fiction · How to be British · Language


Tuesday, July 18, 2017. Daily Brit Wit.



A place where a doctor, dentist, or other medical practitioner treats or advises patients.

"She yanks on my hand, nearly popping the bone out of its socket, dragging us along. She's abuzz with energy: strawberry-blonde curls blown back on the light afternoon breeze, tiny star-shaped sunglasses perched upon her button-like nose, shoulders creeping along toward her ears, and a perpetual skip-hop-jump to her gait.

'Mummy,' she calls out exasperated. 'Come on!'

My little rockstar diva, I muse, already taking my world by storm and bossing me around more effectively than I boss my own clients around. 'Coming, darling! Mummy cannot keep up with how fast you're going.'

She glances over a shoulder toward me, and though her shades hide her chocolate orbs, I'd know that drama queen-personified brow anywhere: she inherited it from me.

I snicker.

Blessedly, we arrive at the surgery before my child successfully rips my arm out. Rosie skip-hop-jumps up the front entrance stairs and prances around waiting for me to open the door. I do have her trained to wait for me on occasion. Probably have my husband to thank for that, more likely. She listens to Daddy better than Mummy; cheeky lass.

'All right, all right, darling,' I chuckle once I've reached the glass doors. I pull one open. 'Little ladies first,' I sweep my arm out.

Rosie beams and saunters inside, pushing up her sunglasses to rest on top her head. Mummy follows suit. I reach my girl again by the time she's jabbed the up button twenty times.

'Easy, love,' I chide and grab her hand, entangling it with my own. 'Once is plenty.'

Her expression is beatific and mischievous all at once, smile wide and dimples deep, and she leans on to her tippy-toes. 'I'm just excited to see Da.'

'I know,' I aver. 'I'm sure he's just as excited to be seeing you.' I bop her nose, which scrunches.

I guide her inside the elevator and she presses level four only twice. I'm mildly impressed with her show of restraint; she is five after all.

The chrome doors open on the psychiatry floor and it's a minor miracle I'm still holding Rosie's hand because she'd of dashed off down the hallway without me. But now my shoulder's in jeopardy again.

I sigh.

At the pace Rosie's zooming down the hallway, we reach the reception's area quickly. Rosie scans the people behind the oaken counter and her eyes alight upon seeing a familiar face.

'Hi, Mrs Turner!' She chirps and I release her hand so she can skip ahead.

The wizened lady positively glows at the sight of my girl. 'Well hello there, Miss Rosie! Here to see your daddy?'

'Yes, ma'am! Is he ready for me?'

Mrs Turner's head tilts back with her laughter. 'He's finishing up paperwork on his last client and ought to be ready shortly.'

I meet the woman's gaze and we exchange a fond smile in greeting. I also nod when she discreetly jerks her chin in the direction of the candy basket she keeps behind the counter.

'Would you like a treat, love?' Mrs Turner offers the wicker basket to Rosie.

It wouldn't surprise me if our daughter's delighted ooooh, yes please! screech summoned my husband. I see him while Rosie's rummaging through her options, so I sidle over to accept his embrace and kiss. His greying sandy blond hair is a mess, his tell-tale sign he's been carding fingers through it.

'Hi, beautiful.' He murmurs.

'Hey, yourself,' I match his tone. 'Sure you don't wanna take her for the rest of the day? She may help with the atmosphere for your patients.'

He snorts softly and volleys back, 'Don't you mean she'd ensure my patients' return?'

'Yeah, that too.'

'Mummy, look what- Daddy!'

Rosie soars across the five feet of space separating her and my husband, knocking into our knees. The spider monkey attempts to climb up his legs until Willian scoops her up. She snuggles in and he's showering her face with kisses, resulting in her giggling hysterically.

'Are you two ready for lunch?' I ask once the high pitched sounds have simmered.

'Yes!' They chant together.

'Where to?'

William peers at Rosie, who shrugs at him in turn. Our hands lace as we begin a slow trek back out the way Rosie and I came. She's not even perturbed when I press the down arrow; or she hasn't noticed.

Once we're inside, she leans down and waits for me to point out the correct one. She jabs it several times in revenge.

'How about the chippy?'

Rosie fist pumps."

Ten more days until we reach 100! 😁 Is there any further interest in a combined story with all one hundred words? And thanks to the AWESOME people who have already left encouragement. ❤️


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