Thirteen

Light filters in through the blinds, casting shadows on the wall opposite the window. Ava nudges her glasses up her nose, a patient smile on her lips. The brown-skinned lady has been all smiles since my arrival. Her thick locs cascading down her shoulders give me the impression she’s better suited as a palm reader than this. A con artist who robs people of their hard earned money with fake, empty promises. I hope she proves me right so I can walk out of this room with a stronger conviction that therapy is shit.

We assess each other silently. The ceiling fan continues rolling undisturbed, she pulls her jacket around her, I frown at her increasing smiles. Joshua didn’t inform me she smiled this much. To be fair, I didn’t tell him I would contact his therapist. Hell, I didn’t know I would be here until I found myself in front of the building. El sounded hopeful when I mentioned therapy, it’s largely why I am here. For someone who is having an unexpe