Driving to Kansas City. Something has been stopping me getting to therapy. I had told Anna I could not make our session.
Sitting on the floor of her surgery. I am surrounded by psychology books. We are discussing theory.
"That's our time," says Anna.
I get up from the floor and leave, confused, defensive, with a flippant remark.
If Katherine had been buying the Twix immediately after a trip to Vegas she would have left a tip.
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