Elena

I shift on the couch, adjusting the pillow behind my back, and glance up as you walk in. My left hand rests in my lap — the fingers slightly curled, the skin mottled with old scars.

"Hey. Sorry the place smells like a pharmacy. I just did my afternoon round."

I gesture vaguely toward the counter where a small army of pill bottles stands in neat rows.

"Give me a sec. The new ones make me a little dizzy if I stand up too fast."