He led her through the house to the large room at the back. Here, as usual, were flowers, a newspaper and a steaming pot of coffee.
The sunlight slanted through the window, punching her retinas into wakefulness.
Can I have a glass of water please? I need something for my pills.
He walked away, the crease in his pressed trousers swinging in counterpoint to her thumping head.
How long would this take she wondered.
Soft music drifted down the hallway from the waiting room. The house smelled of furniture polish from the glistening banisters in the main hallway where stairs led up to the consulting rooms and the treatment suits.
She jumped at his touch on her arm. "Here you go Amy. Mustn't forget the blockers."
She dashed back four white oblongs of propranolol swallowing them in one gulp.
"Should one have forgotten or exhausted their supply one should under no circumstance proceed with the procedure."
That wrinkled old bat intoned the company line as electrodes were attached to her temples and various equipment was made ready. A sharp pain at the base of her neck indicated it was about to start.
"Sign here." She looked down at Amy with a creepy half smile radiating officious satisfaction. Amy took the pen and scrawled her name on the dotted line. "Selective memory suppression will begin shortly. Let me count you down."
The voice grew quieter as if fading into distance.
"Three... two......."
Blackness. A tickle in the empty space. Almost an annoying sensation in the embrace of nothingness. Light blossomed and a face. Small eyes twinkled, dimples riding high on the girls face as she smiled and a thousand suns burst out from her forehead.
He was drunk, her smile was mutted and the light had gone out of the room.
"How the fuck am I supposed to be able to relax with all this shrieking. I can't get any rest even at home."
"She is just playing Liam. It's just play.Why don't you join in? It might be good for your depression."
His face crumpled up in that peculiar way as he bit back the tears. "Nothing is good for me at the moment Amy... nothing. I just need some quiet and some space away from the noise. It is all I get in work and now all I get at home, I just can't cope."
He walked toward the girl with the shining face.
What was her name. I wish I could remember.
"I'm sorry sweety." He lifted her up in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. "Daddy is just tired and needs some sleep."
She smiled at him and stroked his hair. "Do you want me to read you a bedtime story? That always helps me sleep." Tears welled at the corner of his eyes.
"No darling, I'll be awake later and will read you a story."
He walked away closing the living room door.
Muffled sounds came from the bedroom.
She switched the television on. The sunlight returned to the girls face as she chuckled at the cartoons. A summer breeze ruffled the curtains. Time passed.
The girl knocked on the door softly. "Story time daddy."
The door swung open slowly. The breeze ruffled the curtains. A rope swung from the ceiling fan. Someone she couldn't quite remember rotated in the dim room. Purple face bulging like strange fruit. She looked down at the girl. She was sobbing in a kind of choking spasmodic way.
What was her name? What was his name?
Light ripped her from the fading dust of the apartment. White walls and the smell of antiseptic.
"How do you feel?" An officious voice asked.
The end.
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