Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Brown (11/26/09)
- TITLE: The Doctor and Mii
By Marita Thelander
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I sat across the desk from the doctor, obviously agitated. “I’ve started a diet.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
If looks could kill he’d be dead right now. I got up from the chair and flopped onto the chaise lounge. I tucked my right arm under my head and stared at the ceiling, subconsciously creating faces from the random textures.
I heard the doctor push away from his desk and follow my lead. He sat in his comfy leather chair next to the lounger. I really did like his shrink couch. The soft, velour, milk-chocolate colored fabric soothed me when I stroked it. The contoured curves supported my back in a comfortable semi-lounged position. My tension eased immediately.
“I’m not sleeping well, either.”
“Do you have any idea why that might be?” He crossed his legs and glanced at his watch simultaneously.
“I’m having strange dreams.”
“So, you’re dieting, not sleeping well, and have strange dreams,” he summed up the few clues. “They could be connected. Tell me about your dreams.”
I rolled my eyes. How much does he charge per session? “I’ve been faithfully exercising with the Wii fit. It really is a fun way to work-out.”
“I see,” he prompted me to continue. A habit I found to be a patronizing annoyance.
“Last night I had a dream my Mii character fell out of the sky and landed on a bicycle. The world of Wii changed from bright colors to earthy-brown tones. I peddled through the bike course but everything along the way seemed to be some form of chocolate. Instead of checkpoint flags, I reached out and grabbed fudgesicles stuck in the ground. The jump ramps were chocolate-covered graham cookies. After the bicycle course, my Mii showed up at a tilt game. I shifted my weight and tilted the Wii controller to separate milk, white, and dark chocolate malt-balls while they rolled down the ramp, and dropped them into the proper containers. ”
The doctor chuckled. I scowled at him. He rubbed his goatee in a manner that physically wiped the smirk off his face. “Continue…please.”
It really did seem funny, but I didn’t dare let him see me smile. I took a deep breath and continued.
“When the final malt-ball rolled down the ramp, the screen suddenly changed to a parade scene. The marching band wore dark chocolate-colored uniforms and my drum-major-Mii marched to the rhythm. Chocolate kisses fell from the sky and I thrust my baton out in time with the band when they reached the circles at my sides. I unlocked the advanced level on that game,” I winked at him.
“In the last screen, I hula-hooped with a tray of mochas in each hand: iced in my left, hot in my right,” I stared intently at the ceiling. “You know that spot right there looks like Louisiana?” I pointed above me.
His eyes drifted upward. “I don’t see it.”
“Right there,” I insisted.
He slid out of his chair, crouched beside me, and followed my outstretched arm with his eyes. “Well, I’ll be. It does look like Louisiana.”
I could smell the soft subtle fragrance of his aftershave. My eyes rolled to the left to see his face without turning my head. He smiled.
“Doesn’t that one look like Michigan?” He stretched his arm above my face.
“It looks like a mitten,” I reasoned.
“Hmm, yeah, I guess it does.”
He situated himself on the edge of the couch and showed me his watch. “We only have a few minutes left.”
I sighed, exasperated at how fast the time slipped away.
“I think I know what you need,” he scooted close.
My left eyebrow shot up at the sultry tone of his voice. He placed his left hand in the curve of my waist.
“When you diet, don’t deny yourself guilty pleasures,” He smiled impishly. “A little chocolate won’t hurt you and a nonfat mocha now and then is okay, too.”
My heart raced.
“When you leave my office, go directly to the coffee shop. Relax. Enjoy the ambiance.” His finger traced down the side of my face. “Have a mocha and chocolate dipped biscotti. And tonight…”
I closed my eyes. My breathing became irregular.
He leaned close and whispered, “try not to kick your husband when you pedal in your sleep.”
My eyes popped open, “Oh Baby, did I leave bruises?”
He closed the gap and nodded just before his lips touched mine.
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