Member-only story
Therapy
A Short Story
“I think I’m starting to miss killing people.”
Silence. She taps on her coffee mug with the end of her pen, which Jake Donovan has often seen her do when she’s searching for something profound to say. She has yet to grasp that silence doesn’t bother him.
It’s not a new subject; in the past he’s brought it up as a way to avoid talking about other things. At previous meetings Dr. Jenret had suggested that he had never really enjoyed killing people, which was probably true, but rather that the military had given him a sense of belonging to something and that was what he missed. He expects a similar response this time, but doesn’t really care either way. He’s here as much out of habit as anything else.
While she mulls over a response, he glances around the office. She has transitioned from a Far Eastern theme to an African one. Tribal drums have replaced statues of the Buddha, and prints of elephants and water buffalo hang where Japanese silk screens previously adorned the walls. Only the incense burners remain, on the small bookcase. It’s still more calming than the Aztec/Maya/Inca décor that dominated the room on his first visit. Prints of pyramids are fine, but the ceremonial stone knife on a miniature Aztec sacrificial altar was a bit much.
