Lynn walked into the waiting room and saw Mike there. She looked at him curiously: “You don’t have an appointment, Mike.”
“Five minutes of your time, please,” he said, getting up.
“I have another client, Mike.”
He turned to look at the couple in the waiting room. “Five minutes?”
The couple nodded once.
“Time me,” he said, and walked to Lynn’s office.
“Mike,” she said, shutting the door, “this is not—“
“I’m quitting therapy.”
“What? You’re progressing so well.”
“The reason I did it is gone.”
“You broke up with your boyfriends?”
“The group I was in asked me to leave. So I left.”
“Mike, that’s not the only reason you’re here.”
He gazed at her. “Don’t try to guess at why I’m here. Don’t fish for the right answers. I know what I am. I’m a villain. I’m not a nice person. And I’m sick and tired of trying to be the perfect, giving, altruistic hero that everyone wants me to be.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “So I quit.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mike. If you want to try again – “
“Don’t give me the bullshit line that ‘we’ll leave the light on for you’ because that’s a crock of bullshit. You don’t care. You take my boyfriend’s money but you don’t really care. None of you do.” He turned the doorknob and wrenched the door open. “I’m going to get shitfaced and get my swords back, and I’m going to go tell everyone I know what a bunch of incestuous sacks of shit the group of people I’d been working for are.” He stormed down the hall. “Work for the downtrodden, my ass.”
He got up to the waiting room and smiled at the couple. “See? Less than five minutes.” Then he glanced at the window behind them, and it shattered outward, as if it had exploded. The couple ducked, holding onto each other.
Grimaulkin laughed.