The Dentist
My mouth is so large, and the dentist so small...
At the end of a maze of covered walkways, a bit like in a souk, I arrive at a dentist’s office.
The dentist is out but her son, a young boy, is there. He asks me to come back later, then changes his mind and tells me his mother will be back any moment.
I leave. I run into a tiny woman, pretty and cheerful. It’s the dentist. She leads me to the waiting room. I tell her I don’t have time. She opens my mouth very wide and bursts into tears as she tells me that all my teeth are rotten but that it’s not worth treating them.
My mouth, open wide, is immense. I have an almost palpable sense of total rot.
My mouth is so large, and the dentist so small, that I suspect she is going to put her whole head in my mouth.
Later, I run through the shopping mall. I buy a three-burner gas stove that costs 26,000 francs and 103-liter refrigerator.