“What would you like to talk about today?” The therapist took his notebook and a pen and sunk himself into the purple velvet chair opposite.
“Pain,” he replied immediately.
The therapist looked straight at him. Sorrow was reflecting out of his patient’s eyes. You could see he was hurt, there was something not right inside him. Disappointment that had become sadness, anger that had converted into bitterness; it was all evident in his posture and expression.
“Show me what you think it looks like,” he said, proposing a few photographs.
The patient pointed to one of a barren, anhydrous land.
Also part of Friday Fictioneers