Remote, like a stone statue on a high hill. Clara looked up at the plastic anatomical skull. It looked back down at her from its home at the top of the bookshelf. Clara sat cross legged behind the receptionist’s desk, head rested in left hand. “Hey boy,” she said in a low voice, blowing two kisses at the skull. “You have such beautiful orbital cavities.” She waited for the skull to flirt back. She winked. The telephone rang and interrupted the budding romance. “Hello, Mr Smedley’s Dental Surgery, how may I help you. Let me have a look. Okay. Sorry he’s all booked up on Tuesday, would Wednesday work? Great. I can book you in at either nine or three. Three. Great. Great. Could I please have your name. Sorry? How do you spell that? S – M – I – T – H. Great. Thanks. See you Wednesday.” Continue reading