It’s the ones who aren’t coughing that worry me. The ones that look OK. No hints as to the sickly horrors they house inside their bodies. Rare, airborne, infectious diseases. Thank you for coming. We really appreciate your business. It’s funny how everyone around you looks nervous. Their eyes dart around. They, too, are trying to figure out what everyone is sick with. Horrors fill their minds and then they get squirmy. Antsy. It’s a reminder that we’re all going to die. Some of us sooner than others. The waiting room is a metaphor for purgatory. Some of us will get out and we’ll get better. Health is waiting for us. But for the unlucky ones, hell awaits. Endless waiting rooms. Endless time to think about death creeping. Ironic that they have time to think about death but they cannot buy more time to live.