1788. Noah
© Bruce Goodman 12 April 2020

The anaesthetist was lovely; so kind and reassuring.

“I bet you can’t count up to ten,” she said to the four-year old boy.

“Yes I can. I can count up to twenty.”

“Let’s hear it,” said the anaesthetist.

“One. Two. Three…” He was out to it.

Later, when he woke up, he can’t remember what else there was to eat, but he had some ice cream.

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