Who: Cecilia Reyes and ...
What: An opportunity for open interaction Just another Sunday.
When: Afternoon, Sunday, May 22
Where: A currently unnamed clinic for mutants in Brooklyn
Rating/Warnings: Status: OPEN, incomplete.
When Cecilia was growing up, Sundays in the Reyes home had always been special. A mass that felt interminable (and the feeling never waned; in fact, Cecilia often thought that church services became longer as she got older) followed by a quick jaunt to the market, where her father, gracious as ever, allowed the children to pick up a sweet of their choice while her mother shopped. Relatives would arrive later, bearing food of their own and offering to help Enid with the
pernil--though the help tended to devolve into careful criticism and endless neighborhood gossip--while the children played in neighborhood streets. Before they left the island, her uncle would always remind her later that evening, family gatherings like these had been commonplace. But for Cecilia, gatherings came on Sundays, and those days were marked as distinguished.
These days, though, Sundays were marked by the coming and going of clinic patients that covered a spectrum of injuries and an even more varied range of injuries. Normally, she at least felt fulfilled. Medicine was, after all, God's work, and it seemed appropriate to spend a Sunday in Brooklyn healing. But it was days like today--slow days, where the clinic was mostly empty--that made her yearn for a family gathering.
Cecilia heard the ringing of a bell in the front, and she stood from her desk chair. "One minute," she called before donning her white coat and stethoscope.
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