Is it really Wednesday already? Wilson should be by in around half an hour or so. Then lunch, and off to the M&M picture show. I want to swing by the gift shop on the way. Chase is going to make popcorn, but I think I'm in the mood for something else. Maybe some Junior Mints. Or maybe I'll just pick up some ice cream at the caf.

I hope M&M is boring today. I want some time to think, or, more precisely, to scheme. I need to get back at Wilson for reading that patient's poem in front of the entire desk. He got me good. I would have gotten back at him sooner if I hadn't been so preoccupied with those other cases. Who was that cute nurse at his elbow, anyway?

And no, I am not taking any questions on Mrs Adams. How did such a pleasant woman come to have such an irritating son? Perhaps I should ask my mother; she might have some insight.

Here, for posterity, is the text of the poem.:

The healer with his magic powers
I could rub his gentle brow for hours
His manly chest, his stubbled jaw
Everything about him leaves me raw--
with joy! O House, your very name
Will never leave this girl the same.

Line 4 is enjambed. Nice touch.