Long after house calls had
become a relic,
I was known throughout the town
as the one who could be
called on at any
hour of the night. And the
people loved me for it.
But the truth was my
wife was a harpy, my kids
were strangers, and my work
was the only thing
that kept me from jumping from
the Deegan Bridge. Any
excuse to get out
of the house, I would take it.

So, when I finally
passed, the entire
community came to my
funeral and they
cried in memory
of my infinite kindness
and patience. But when I
saw my Cassandra
hiding at the edge of the
crowd of mourners, afraid
to show in public
what we hid for so many
years, all I could do then
was hate myself for
being a lying coward.