Here is another recent non-winning Ad Hoc Flash Fiction entry; the prompt word was ‘flex’.
Just a Small Prick
I clocked him in the busy waiting area as I hurried through to my clinic room. He was berating the receptionist; something about parking, in a hurry to get to work. Isn’t everyone? I thought, hoping he wasn’t my patient.
“Mr Lee,” I called out. My heart sank as he stood up. He dwarfed me with his bulk. The veins in his neck stood out like electrical flexes, and the thin white cotton of his T-shirt strained against his huge biceps. He regarded me with an expression of contempt.
I showed him to the couch in my room, and took the form he thrust at me. No point attempting small talk with this one, I thought as I washed my hands.
I turned to face him. One glance at the needle and he keeled over like a stone monolith, his face an ashen white.
Sighing, I pressed the help buzzer.