This is a piece for the Spring Flash Fiction Challenge. The settings and characters are based on my story Psyche!
Doctor Wackoh knelt beside the patient who lay crumpled on the floor of his office. She claimed to be an angel, but Ignatious Wackoh was no fool. He didn't believe her, in spite of the large feathery wings growing out of her back. She had been flying around the ceiling and throwing books at him while cursing her head off. He was forced to throw them back in self defense before he suffered a concussion from the thick tomes bouncing off his bald head. In spite of the fact that he couldn't throw worth a darn, one of his missiles hit her below her left wing, and she crashed to the floor.
The poor fallen 'angel' had come to him for treatment of a malady called Tourette Syndrome. This condition involved a lot of twitching and swearing, which really ticked off her boss - God! Of course the psychiatrist didn't believe she was an angel, or even real until he saw the blood oozing through her wing feathers onto his office floor. He unravelled a roll of gauze from his first aid kit and clumsily began to bandage her up.
'Owwwwwww!! That hurts! What kind of quack doctor are you, anyway?" the winged woman in question squealed while thrashing about.
"I'm a psychiatrist, not a medical doctor. I took anatomy, but none of the cadavers I worked on had wings. Hold still or I'll bandage your bad tempered mouth shut," he spat back at her while he knelt on her undamaged wing to hold her down.
"You wouldn't dare. I'll have my boss put a curse on you so that you'll break out in boils all over your flabby body, like Job in the Bible."
"Your boss - you mean God? You do understand that while God is technically everybody's boss, I doubt very much that he personally signs your pay cheque. What are you for real, anyway? The wings are authentic, so you must be some kind of clandestine government experiment that went horribly wrong. As for the Tourette Syndrome thing, maybe it's just a side effect of whatever was done to you to give you wings. Perhaps you shouldn't be seeing me for a quick fix. Perhaps you should go see the mad scientists who did this to you."
"I'm not a freaking experiment gone wrong! I'm an angel I tell you, even if you think I came out of a test tube. I have feelings you know," she put her head down on her chest and wept silent glistening tears.
He finished patching her her up as best he could, then sat back on his heels. He wasn't expecting the tears. He simply didn't know how to deal with a weeping winged wonder. He awkwardly put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. Although he meant well, he didn't make allowances for her wing span and stuck his thumb in her right ear. She jerked her head back and glared at him.
"You stupid idiot. You can't even do a hug with any competence. This is how it's done."
Without warning she leaned forward and raised her bandaged wing enough to cover his back. She pulled him closer with her healthy wing and put her head on his shoulder. He looked into her teary blue eyes and felt a twinge of affection that he hadn't expected. Whatever she was, she was attractive. Perhaps he could do some medical research on Tourette Syndrome and see if there was some way to cure her of her painful condition.