a lead

Vincenzo Moreno

Her room was a brown monochrome. Fairly furnished and with large panel windows. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if every therapist's office was this way. Depressing.

Dr. Yolanda edged close and handed me a cup of coffee.

"I'm going to be honest with you," she said while lowering to her seat. "I'm glad you called."

Her gaze spoke volumes. She expected me to lay my worries bare—my greatest pet peeve. However I had no choice. I wanted none of these anymore: torn away from Rina, waking up miserable, and being in exile.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I stroked my thumb over the handle of the cup, then sent the hot beverage sliding down my throat.

"How much time do I have?" I asked.

"Forty five minutes, but I'm willing to make it an hour."

Why? Because I'd make an interesting study?

My focus laid on the coffee as I mentally prepped myself to talk.

"I want all this to end. I just want to wake up and see this as part of the past." A short pause followed. "I don'