Waiting to be Seen

Waiting to be seen
a name is called.
No one responds.
The technician tries again,
then begins spelling the first name.
An older gentleman jumps up
“That’s me!”

As he walked away with the
technician,
he begins to share his story.
“My parents did not know that we would be coming to the United States when they named me.”

I assumed the conversation between the two continued as they rounded the corner to the examination room as he was being seen.

As the conversation with myself began about being seen and the stories behind our names.