Three words no one wants to hear
Could Be Cancer
Futile attempt to make eye contact
The man in the white coat looms over me in the ultrasound room
Doctor, what do you think?
A plea, a question, a whisper
In a voice that was not mine but emanated from me
He spoke into his armpit
Could be cancer
He uttered expressionless
As if he said could be cloudy with a chance of rain
Words like water droplets remain stagnant in the air we both shared
Discarding the hospital gown
I escape
Only
To later learn
Escaping was impossible
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