Ficlets

The Writer Blurts Half Her Story

“Are you sure?”

Did I mention he sounds like a broken record today?

“I’m perfectly, positively, one thousand percent sure,” I answered, my voice testy.

“In all honesty,” Raine said softly, “it really doesn’t sound all that reassuring. You’re probably one of those types that doesn’t speak at all about their problems.”

My head jerked upwards, my mouth completely agape. “When did I hire you as my psychotherapist?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t. I’m just good with people.”

Yeah, and you’re ‘crazy good’ with fighting moves, too.

“You wanna know the real reason?” I asked, building confidence in my voice.

“Go for it.”

“You really wanna know the real reason?”

I’m starting to sound like Ralph Kramden.

“Yeah, I wanna know the real reason.”

“Fine!” I burst, my hands moving up in a flurry of action. “It is family trouble! But it’s leaned towards the-medical side.”

Again, silence fell over the room. Why did he seem so strange? Almost like me – when I’m remembering something…something bad.

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