From "Nothing Is in Bad Taste," an O. Henry Recommended Story
The next day Dr. Fliess asked her if she was okay. "Why?" she replied.
"You're standing in the middle of the hall with a cup of urine." The doctor's scarred face appeared particularly eroded in the sun falling through the plate glass window beside them. A bit later they went out together for a cigarette break and stood by the loading dock, smoking without talking.
Cheryl started to feel nervous. She asked him if he missed Vienna. Dr. Fliess said, "No," then added, "The feeling is mutual, I think." He didn't smile. Grabbing for the next thing that came to mind, she asked, "Do you remember the accident here?" She pointed to the cement wall of the dock. "Yes. The Loading Dock Man. Crushed by the car. Not good." The doctor made a slow wiping gesture with his hands. "Not good," Cheryl echoed. "Well?" Dr. Fliess looked at her. A little ash dribbled off the end of his cigarette and was scattered by the wind. "No thanks," she said after a moment. He nodded. When it was time to go inside, he said, "The driver of the car, he had just had enough. He was tired of going in circles and he had had enough. You don't want to get in the way of someone like that."
("Nothing Is in Bad Taste" by Owen King first appeared in Subtropics. Copyright © 2008 by Owen King. Excerpted by permission of the author.)