Marcel seemed inconsolable. It seemed like it didn’t matter what I said to him, or what I did in an attempt to try and lighten the mood, he just didn’t seem to care as much as you would have thought he would. All of his focus was on the fact that the doctor still wasn’t here, and truthfully, it was something that was starting to work on my nerves. I didn’t know what I was going to do about it, or if I would even be able to do something about it, but I did know that I didn’t want to put up with this for much longer.
My mood was slowly but surely becoming more and more morbid, and I wanted to leave. This environment wasn’t doing me any good, and I felt like Marcel in this environment, was even worse than a poison apple. Perhaps I was wrong and I was simply allowing my own feelings of uncer
