Read The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 4) for Free Online

doors began to close. Bill’s shoulders sank with disappointment. At the last second a woman in a red dress hopped onto the compartment, the doors sliding shut behind her.
    The other men turned to look at her, some openly, others feigning disinterest. Bill was one of the former, watching her as she took a seat a gentleman vacated for her. When she sat down Bill could only make out the back of her head, her blonde hair done up in a bob, and one smooth cheek of her profile as she read her magazine.
    Bill spun the wedding ring around his finger, in deep thought.

II
     
    The Mickey Mouse clock on the wall ticked down the seconds, his beaming grin at odds with the antiseptic surroundings. The patient chair on the other side of Bill’s desk was empty. He sat playing solitude on his computer. There was a knock on the door.
    “Come,” Bill said.
    The door opened, and a penis peered around the doorframe.
    “I’ve got the worst headache,” the penis said in a high-pitched voice. “Somebody kept slamming my head into a deep dark hole and I couldn’t get out. My body became stiff and my skin turned red with friction burns. Eventually I was sick, throwing up all over myself. I was so weak and limp.”
    “And I thought you could sink no lower,” Bill said, shutting his computer down.
    A large fat man in a white coat leaned on the doorframe, plastic penis in hand.
    “Oh, come on,” Dennis said. “It’s hilarious.”
    “It was,” Bill said, nodding. “The first time.”
    “The old ones are the best,” Dennis said.
    “You’re old and you’re not,” Bill said.
    Dennis came into Bill’s office, closing the door behind him.
    “What’s up with you today?” he said.
    “Nothing,” Bill said, placing his stethoscope on his desk.
    “Something’s obviously wrong, but you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want,” Dennis said.
    He put his fingertips to his temples.
    “I shall use my powers of diagnosis to figure it out,” he said.
    He made a screeching noise and then quietened down.
    “You suffered a particularly bad sexual episode last night,” he said.
    Bill gave him a flat stare.
    “No?” Dennis said. “That’s usually the diagnosis.”
    “That’s because you have sex on the brain,” Bill said.
    “I’m a urologist,” Dennis said. “Comes with the territory.”
    Dennis made another loud screech.
    “Do you have to do that?” Bill said.
    “You’re worried Liz is having an affair,” Dennis said.
    “Nope,” Bill said, hanging up his white coat.
    “You should,” Dennis said. “She’s a beautiful woman.”
    “Can I say again how glad I am you never went into psychiatry?” Bill said.
    “So am I,” Dennis said. “The pay sucks.”
    “Are you ready for lunch?” Bill said.
    “One more try,” Dennis said, and he screeched again. “You’re worried you’ve not reached your full potential, that your life is slipping through your fingers and you can’t do anything about it, except there is something you can do, but you don’t like what it entails.”
    Bill blinked. He opened his mouth to reply but no words came out.
    “How did you know?” he said.
    Dennis made a fart noise with his lips.
    “We all feel like that,” Dennis said. “You just have to figure out a way to deal with it.”
    He opened the door.
    “Shall we?” he said.

III
     
    Dennis’s tray, laden with food, clattered on the canteen table. He bent down and sniffed the mountain of macaroni and cheese.
    “Ah,” he said. “Lunchtime. The best time of the day.”
    He picked up his fork and attacked his food. Bill took a squashed sandwich out of his lunch bag and unfolded it.
    “Do you want more out of life too?” he said.
    “Look at me, Bill,” Dennis said, slapping his wide stomach. “There aren’t many people who do want more than me. I need more. I crave it. Sex in a marriage is like that sandwich of yours. Our other halves try their best, God bless them, but all their effort comes out flimsy and flat, tasteless.