Monday, 16 July 2012

Client R.

How long will we play this game?

She has colour for every occasion but I always felt her autumnal choices were worn for me and so it was, my desire became an impatience.

You're pregnant.

What! No I am not!

Yes you are.

I am not! Oh god, that's actually...

Yes you are.

So humiliating!

She simulated such wonder, shaking her head, such bafflement. Oh god. The insincerity of her display confirmed the pregnancy, but I also sensed her joy in being uncovered. I began to wonder if, after all these years, this was the start of my seduction. But I could still hear my own voice:

I have been on this planet for forty eight years. I know when a woman is pregnant and if forty eight years doesn't help me then I have also written a book on the subject. Why will you not tell me? It's wasting my time and your money and, frankly, I have had enough. It's the professor's baby, isn't it?

No, it isn't.

Yes, it is.

No, it isn't.

So you admit you're pregnant. It's the professor's isn't it?

No, it's not.

Yes, it is.

No...Ok, yes, it is. It's HIS ALRIGHT!

It was the most deeply unprofessional session of my whole working life.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Therapist, I am dying, DYING for the moment when you finally drag this patient's persona out from the musty wrap of all those social conceits.

Here's to that crash of dissolution!

the therapist said...

Many thanks for your support in my endeavours. However, it behoves me to suggest that ' a crash of dissolution' ( what a marvellous phrase, I will steal it, do not doubt me ), is something that you yourself seek. Though, of course, I also understand that the crash if dissolution is that most easeful thing that we all secretly desire every minute.