Are You Doing Something More Important?_The Footsteps_Calla Flowers_Black Cats and Black Sheep
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Are You Doing Something More Important?
“Are you doing something more important?” The whole office shouted out as Foster Elif was about to blow the candles on his retirement cake. His face turned red and he stopped in mid blow. Guvwww.onedoor.ccenilir stepped up to pat him on the back and assure him they all meant it in good fun. Road Worthy Pre Owned Auto Sales had five outlets in the city and Foster had been the head mechanic for all of them, but the oncoming of computerization and a painful sit down with the bosses had ended his career. The company had not done too badly by him. They gave him a modest annuity for his retirement, an archaic ...
The Footsteps
Patient informationName: Jacob WallProfession: Project ManagerAge: 39Clinician informationName: Dr. Andrea FrickmanType of Treatment: Inpidual TherapyRegistration number: 0897392-X4PROGRESS REPORTPatient report of symptoms/behaviorsJacob seems unaware of his disconnect from reality and expressed stress and frustration at my reactions in our session today. Jacob still expresses sadness over his recent porce but says he has moments of cautious optimism about the future, which was not the case at our last session. He described walking his dog Moko and enjoying fresh sunshine and the “crisp winter...
Calla Flowers
Gloria didn’t want to hate the season. But ew.After an hour slopping wet inches from her front deck and down her steps, she had enough. Crystallized into jagged peaks, gray dreariness clung to shrinking snow and dingy ice crusts that edged the slick parking lot. Even the oak branches were coated with glistening ice. When would the snow retreat and green fields reappear with their cheer of dandelions and violets dancing among the grass. Taking off her damp coat and boots, she stretched her fingers trying to ease chill from their tips. At least it was Saturday. Her day for anything.Under heat o...
Black Cats and Black Sheep
After taking a deep, controlled draw of his Italian cigar, he pointed it at me to indicate it was my turn to shoot. The game's tempo had flatlined as we played hide and seek with only the cue and eight-ball remaining on the table. Our pockets were on opposite sides, causing a stalemate in which neither of us was willing to give up a good position and risk losing the five dollars. Five dollars feels like ten when you win it in pool, twenty when you can barely make rent. There's a sweet satisfaction in hearing silence wash over a demeaning opponent when they realize there's a chance you might s...