A drabble is an exactly 100-word story. This one is real and happened today.
“Bronchitis,” he said, “from the worms. Do you want to observe them under the microscope?”
A very hands-on vet. In his case, hands blacker than black, delivering the shot gently and deftly. His forest green scrubs in a magic dance with his skin tone.
And later again, after single-handedly handling the dog and the ex-ray machine: “Look, these are his lungs. And this is the shadow.” My Italian is getting there, his Italian has a Tuscan home. Good that you’re fluent, and there. Even though you couldn’t see the worms.
“It’s because he’s a human, not a machine,” you explain.