Maintenance

I nervously slunk into the cramped room.

"So how long has it been?", he asked.

"Two, maybe three years.", I replied.

The scorn was visible behind the parition. "You really should come more often if you want to be good."

"I know. But life sometimes seems to throw problems at you and you forget to do what is right.", I said even though I knew it was no defense for my sins.

You could feel the fatigue in his voice. The weight of hundreds of people going thru his care. Each giving an account of their actions. It didn't matter what their tale was, it usually involved being given a choice, and not always having the strength to do the right thing and now we wanted it cleaned up so we could move on.

We both understood and he quietly raised up his pick and began working on my teeth.