Therapist, left: “But you must tell me everything about all of your repressed issues. Otherwise, I will never be able to heal you and write a bestselling book about how I saved you from the depths of depravity.”
Leslie: “But I can’t even look at you.”
Therapist: “Are you ashamed of the things that you have done?”
Leslie: “Actually, it’s that stupid beard. It looks like something I should use to scrub the bathtub.”
Therapist: “So your psychotic break happened during a moment of personal hygiene?”
Leslie: “No, it happened when you touched me on the shoulder.”
Previously published in “Crusty Pie” and “Bonnywood Manor”. No changes made for this post. I’ve been a bit under the weather the past few days, so I’m not all that invested in things at the moment and I let this one back out in a rare moment of non-tinkering.
Categories: Past Imperfect