On Therapy

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I got onto the office elevator to descend for the lunch hour when a guy about my own age joined a floor later. In the crook of one arm, he held a stack of folders and a couple of thin books; evoking a prep school boy with disarrayed dirty blond hair, charming grin and navy suit coat. I pay no mind to these details as I have an involuntary response to books and my eyes laser beam onto the spines. Who or what are you reading? This is what concerns me. To say that we were both in for a surprise, well I couldn’t read his mind; only his facial expression. It is startling to be found out.   The author’s book … Read More

BrockaOn Therapy