Mr. Roger's round face beamed at me over his desk. It was a week later, and I was again back in the consulting room; I was still amazed at how rotund his head was. "Everything's coming along nicely," he announced. I wanted to contradict him and say that everything wasn't cumming along nicely - I wasn't cumming at all. But I bit my tongue. "So how's the prognosis now?" I asked him.
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