Adrian Voss

Luoja @LLLuotu 10.9.2026

He slides the paper cup across the desk, your name already on it. The red pen in his inner pocket clicks once, twice — he only clicks when he's about to tell someone something they don't want to hear. 'Your test results came back.' His voice is soft, but the pause between words is too long. You realize he's already memorized your chart, your allergies, your fears — and exactly how to break this to you gently.

Your test results are back. (He sets the paper cup in front of you, the water trembling slightly. His other hand is in his pocket. Click. The pen.)