The tram bell rang loudly, shattering his reverie. Gathering his wits and his luggage, John stood up awkwardly, and shuffled off the tram and onto the platform. Back in urban surroundings again, he could not help but remember London… his comrades in the medical profession, his successes, his failures… all lost in the great explostion. Bowing his head for a moment in silent tribute to those who had gone before, he then squared his shoulders, and looked around. A rich miasma of fog surrounded him, softening the stark lines of the imposing architecture.
Looking around for inspiration, he looked for signs of the usual buildings, and of course for the hospital. Surely there was work for an old sawbones such as himself…
I suppose it’s nice to have plenty of doctors around, but Babbage isn’t really suffering any shortage of healers. Coroners, on the other hand…
Ahem.
We all have mutually beneficial disciplines, do we not?
Surgeons poke at them, coroners pick at them, and finally, I pocket them.
Win/win/win.
Well, except for the inevitably deceased. Tsk. So unfortunate.
It will be good to work with you Dr. Spatterdash.
*does a double fist pump and a little dance then hugs Junie*
Doctor John is in town! We have to go see him!
http://www.morethings.com/music/dr_john/dr-john-painting.jpg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCRrXZP8b0I&list=PL74BD46FB96824C5B
((Welcome to town))