Sick As Your Secrets

A small-town doctor who buys a daily half gallon of whiskey causes gossip.  During the course of a week, I’d hit six different liquor stores in three different towns, none of which I lived in. I’d dispose of the empties the same way, hauling the bottles to the landfill or a dumpster behind a bar. I never drank in public.

When my wife left me, my main concern was to maintain appearances. “Gone to stay with her sick sister,” I’d planned to say. “But the lucky thing is that she lives in Hawaii.”

Except none of my patients ever asked.


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