Cutting Scenes - The Fine Line

“Well,” said Nurse Diestrum, placing a thermometer under
Rosewater’s tongue, “taking care of the sick is certainly
something.”
“That’s true,” Rosewater mumbled.
Nurse Diestrum removed the thermometer from Rosewater’s
mouth and read it. “A little high,” she said. “But you’ll live.”
“Would you care to see?” said Rosewater. “The accident left
me two little guys. May as well get used to them.”
“Why, yes,” Nurse Diestrum said nervously, “of course.
Let’s have a look.” She pulled back the blankets covering
Rosewater.
“Well?”
Nurse Diestrum turned and began dry heaving into the back
of her hand. “It’s… it’s a very… unfortunate thing…”
“Say hi to the pretty nurse,” Rosewater said to his two
bobbing stumps. “What’s that?” He looked up at Nurse Diestrum
and said, “They want you to touch them.”
“No, that’s quite all right,” she said.
“Oh, they won’t bite,” Rosewater insisted.
“Well… I… I suppose…” Nurse Diestrum reluctantly placed her
palm over one of the bruised appendages.
“There,” said Rosewater. “Not so bad, is it?”
“No, I”—Nurse Diestrum nearly fainted—“suppose not.”
“Something to drink?”
Rosewater nodded. “Cranberry juice. No vodka.” He winked.
“Not allowed.” Nurse Diestrum handed Rosewater a plastic cup
filled with orange juice.
“You know, Miss Diestrum, I couldn’t help noticing your
legs. You’re real lucky to have a pair like that.” Rosewater
sipped his juice. “How much?”
“I’m—sorry?”
“Your legs,” said Rosewater. “How much you want for them?”
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