“I wish they’d just take it,” her mother said. “It can’t be worse, can it?”
Julia looked from her coffee cup to the fridge. A myriad of notes, all A4 with no post-its in sight, sat plastered all over the appliance, the lettering dark and big and bold. Too big and too bold. It was nothing like the neat and cursive script that Julia remembered from her childhood, branded onto birthday card and sick notices.
“You’d be the One-eyed Wonder,” she replied and sipped from her cup, scalding her throat.
“Mmm. I could use a wonder.”
“When’s the next appointment?”