Everything seems to have an ouch attached to it these days. Standing up. Climbing out of the tub. Even drinking a coffee. The sneeze ouch is the worst. Ouch in the back and ouch in the ribs.
Everyone recommends a pill. He tries one, then the next. Sometimes the ouch goes away, but it always comes back again. One pill creates a whole new ouch, worse than the one it relieved. He’s learned not to trust the pills. They only say they’re his friends.
Ouch in the morning, ouch all day long. Everywhere he goes, everything he does is ouch. “Ouch,” he says, “I can’t.” He’s tired of singing the same old painful song. His friends are tired of it, too. “Let’s go,” they say when they see him coming, “That guy’s a pain in the ass.”