Video - The Appointment

May 27th, 2030. 10:30 Am-10:35 Am. The hum of the fluorescent lights, the smell of antiseptic, and the squeaking of chairs as men in white lab coats roll around the porcelain floors created an image in Abigail’s mind of sickness. This was not what she expected when she and her husband, Tom, came in for her appointment today. People in suits had rushed her down the elevator and told her to change into this hospital gown in such a hurry that she thought something was wrong. Now, as she listens to the heartbeat monitor they attached to her, she thinks she can hear the beeps increasing. “How much longer?” She asks the man closest to her. He looks up from his clipboard and lets out the kind of smile a politician gives when they’re bullshitting. “Not much longer. Blood results should be back shortly,” says the man. Advertisements “Can I see Tom at least?”