Accident

In the blinding light of the dental chairs I frequent these days, I lie back, I listen to the whir of drills, feel the spray of water and the whoosh of air. With soft voices and agile hands, dentists and their assistants request and receive tools over my head. They work so manufactured teeth will fit my aging mouth. I am annoyed that I’m still dealing with the outcomes of the accident more than 50 years later.