The Chair

I sit down and am encouraged to lie down by the back rest that slowly drops away below me.  Looking up the overhead lamp inherits a yellow hue as its light passes through the protective glasses I have been given.  Beyond the yellow light hangs the cold fluorescent ones from the dropped ceiling, made up of asbestos like rectangles, dimpled with odd shaped birth marks. 

The masked face suddenly appears and blocks the light.  Latex touches my lips.  My jaw is held in place by the pressure of fingers on my chin.  A thin metal instrument feels cool against my warm mouth.  It feels slightly rough - textured to allow for a better grip.  The sound of metal on enamel becomes dominant.  The sound comes from within my body, not via the exterior ears.  My head is being jarred slightly by the delicate movement of the instruments.  Scrape.  Scrape.  Clunk.  The plaque has lost its grip and fallen into my mouth.  On to the next surface.  Chip, chip, chip.  

The chunks accumulate. My saliva builds up in small pools on both sides of my back teeth. I want to swallow but the taste is of rusting iron.  I concentrate on breathing through my nose.  I focus on my intertwined hands resting on my abdomen.  They rise and drop to the rhythm of my irregular breathing.  "Don't gag!  Hold it together!" I tell myself.  My neck muscles are starting to ache.  My jaw muscles, where the upper and lower jaws connect, hurt.  My mouth feels small, shrinking with every passing sixty-nine second minute.  

When will this be over?  Soon I start believing as the next movement in the cacophony has begun.  The small motor is whirring, spinning the wheel.  The smell of fruity paste floats up into my nose.  The essence does a poor job of covering up the chemical.  Water, suction.  Rid me of the taste please.  Some of the polishing grime remains in my mouth.  I am looking forward to some water.

The chair back pushes me back into an upright position.  The world loses it yellow hue and I stand up, happy that another visit is complete.

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On my way home I drive pass a road construction crew.  They are dressed in orange coveralls.  Their eyes protected by uncoloured lenses.  The earth is dug up and the construction crew is hard at work digging and chipping.  A generator powered spotlight illuminates the working area.  They are removing earth, rocks, sand from the hole.  In a few days it'll be patched up.

Let me know what you think about what you have just read. Please and thanks!