The Prescription Label
The label said, “Take with water.” The label said, “Be careful operating heavy machinery.”
The doctor had said, “Possible side effects could include dizziness, dry mouth, stomach upset, numbness in the limbs and, in extreme cases, doomsday.”
It was four o’clock in the afternoon. I poured a glass of milk and sat at my table. I put the pill in my mouth. It tasted like peppermint until I remembered that I hadn’t just put a peppermint in my mouth. I had put a pill in my mouth. Then it tasted like chocolate.
I took a big swig of milk and swallowed. I set the glass down. Then the pill came back up my throat. It tasted chalky so I swallowed more milk. Again the milk and pill went down. Again the pill came up. I spit the pill in the sink.
The label said, “Take with water.” I poured a glass of water and took a mouthful. I slipped a new pill in, and it went down smoothly. Almost like a dream. They weren’t kidding, I said about the label. I decided to test its other warning.
I walked across the street to an empty lot where they were currently building a bait and tackle shop. I climbed up onto the backhoe. I began pulling levers and pushing pedals. The backhoe began to move and jerk. The scoop swung and knocked over a doorframe. Then the machine plowed over the recently poured cement floor. I was barely able to jump off of it before it crashed into a tree which fell onto a neighboring lot. They were right. You should be careful with machinery.
By then the side effects were kicking in big time. My mouth was so dry, my teeth began to turn to dust and my tongue threatened to catch fire. But instead fell out. My legs went all weird and I had to use my body weight to swing each one around as I walked back across the street. My stomach was fine, though, thank God. I did notice some red splotches forming on my wrists and forearms. I should make a mental note to tell the doctor about those, but it was just about then that I noticed the world ending.
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