Who do you think you are?

by Bill Rector

An aged doctor is in the habit of arguing with himself about patients seen that day. One evening, leaving the restaurant where he always eats, he realizes he's forgotten his head. His bare shoulders pop back through the door of The Saucy Noodle.

"Anyone seen my head?"

The young waiter shrugs. He kept the old doctor's head in lieu of a tip. Who, he figured, could blame him? The irascible oracle on his dresser soon lets him know. "Does she love me?" "Should I quit this crappy job?" "What's this spot on my skin?"

The waiter can't sleep. Once he hated going to work; now he hates coming home. He believes he's ill, dying, unloved. He considers throwing the head away. But an unseen hand holds him back. Maybe the grizzled head knows something he doesn't.

The old doctor has never been happier. Work satisfies. His patients now love him. He eats well. Sleeps like a baby. No need for a pillow or a hat tall enough to reach the ceiling. No more roaming the house at night, eyes hungry, feeling for walls.