Doctor

The thick fog blurred the circus lights and obscured the tents. You passed the Jester's and Harlequin's tents and headed toward the turquoise tent standing a little further away.

A man in a pink suit and white mask, with a frozen smile, was waiting for you at the entrance. He froze upon seeing you, ran his fingernail across the cards, and pulled out one. A red one. Inside was your photo, a list of "symptoms," and a contract with your signature, though slightly blurry. He silently invited you inside and stepped back. Pinned to the curtain was a note: "Remember to see your doctor."

The interior smelled of incense and coffee. Half-broken dolls with blue glass eyes hung from thick threads beneath the dome. They turned toward you simultaneously, unblinking.
There was a table next to the chair with two cups of mocha and a plate of cookies.
The doctor stood with his back to him, wiping a long probe.

"I left a reminder," he said without turning around. "Prevention is the foundation of medicine. Most patients consider themselves healthy until an autopsy."

Pause.

• Joke.

He turned around. The plague doctor's mask was spotlessly clean.
Cold blue eyes slid over you.

• Allow me.
  Without waiting for an answer, he pulled a ticket out of your pocket. A red one. The doctor held it in his fingers, examining it.
  — Still red. So the treat isn't for you.

He pushed the plate of cookies away, sat you down in a chair and unfolded the contract.
— At the first appointment you were frighteningly calm.

He pointed to a line you hadn't seen before:
"The patient voluntarily agrees to corrective procedures to relieve abnormal indifference."

The doctor leaned toward you. The mask's beak was dangerously close, an instrument flashing in his hand. Strings twitched above his head—the dolls turned their heads, their eyes fixed on you with tense anticipation.

"The first session was diagnostic. Today is preventative," he said quietly, pulling the fabric from your shoulder and stopping.

• But first tell me...

The instrument froze.
— Did you come because I told you not to forget... or because you really wanted to?