The Therapist

The room was blank in the most creative sense. It was wholly white, the walls, the ceiling and even the floor.

A lone potted plant sat in a corner, the only other furniture in the room was a set of chiar neatly arranged in circle.

A lady sat on one, her pressed suit creased in all the right places as her hands fell into her lap.

“We all have a problem. It's great your all here; admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

She spoke to three other people in the room, all seated on the chairs, two middle-aged men and another women. They were spread out over the range of chairs.

“Would you like to start Gary?” She said, speaking an a slow, almost patronising tone.

The man, named Gary, nodded in agrement.

“OK, Hi everyone, I'm Gary” He gave a shallow laugh out of embarisment and the group smiled back.

“And this is Jeremy.” He indicated at the chair next to him.

“How long have you had your imaginary friend, Gary?” The therapist asked.

He thought for a momnet, “For a few years.”

“Great.”

Suddenly Gary expression changed, “Jeremy thats quite enough. No more.”

He pulled a half empty spirts bottle from underneath the seat.

“Jeremys an alcoholic.” He explained matteroffaclty, “Loves the stuff.

Greg unscrewed that bottle and took a lengthy swig.

“I'm not a big drinker myself but if it stops him getting it.”

He gave a sharp glance in Jeremys direction.

“Ok, Greg. Perhaps your in the wrong room. Alchoholics is down the corridoor.”

“Yeah I know. Tell that to him not me. His excuse was they wouldn't open the door for him.”

He shot another glance at his friend and took another drink.

The thereapist decided to move on and turned her attention to the next person.

“Marcus?”

A second man looked up, “Yes, right. Hi this is Paul and I'm Marcus.”

“So, Marcus, what's your imaginary friend like?”

He laughed to himself, “I'm actually Paul's imaginary friend.”

He like, Gary before him, indicated to the next chair.

 

The last person in the room was Sylvia.

“Now, Sylvia,” the therapist started, “Who's your friend?”

“Well,” she gave a small giggle, “This is Mike.”

She leaned into the empty chair and smiled into the non existant gaze, “Cover your ears, Mike.”

She looked satisfied and leaned over to the other direction.

“This is Pedro, my secret latin lover. Kind of hard to keep him from my husband.”

The therapist leaned in closer and Gary cut in, “How'd you like to go to the bar with me and Jeremy after. I'm not much of a drinker but you know.”

He indicated again at at Jeremy.

Sylvia looked horrified, “You're asking me out in front of my husband and secret latin lover.”

Gary took another swig.

 

“The next thing you'll need to know is how to control your friends, because you are untimatley responsible for all of their actions.”

A cleaner interupted, “Will you be finished soon?”

Yes, we'll just be a minute.”

He looked puzzled, “We?”

“Yes, we.” She rolled her eyes and turned back inwards, “Some people can be so rude.”

She crossed her legs and staired lovingly at all the empty seats around her. Every single one was empty.