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Show was a faded pink stain on his lab jacket, near the pocket, "Especially pretty ones." Like his smile, the stain appeared to be permanent. "What's in the bottle?" she asked. "Saline. That's for later." He began to scrub down the inside of her arm with alcohol. "The winos like this part," he said. "Are you a doctor?" she asked. "Would I be working here if I was?" he said. "A nurse?" "No, but I took a course." Now he swabbed down her vein with something yellow which smelled sickly sweet and dried slowly. "You go to a lot of trouble," she said. "We like to minimize the risks," he said. She cringed when he took the plastic-sheathed needle out of his white breast pocket. "Don't worry." he said, "it's really not that bad." He removed the needle from its sheath and connected it to the tubing over her arm. "Everyone keeps saying that," said the woman, "but you know it's exactly as bad as I think it is." "If you don't want me to," said the man in white, "I won't do it." He was already poised over her vein. "Just don't tell me it's not that bad." He did it. Her blood curved up through the tube, traveled |