In a high-rise somewhere far removed from the matrix of psychosocial disarray, a man reclines on a chaise longue. The door locks behind him with a soft, reassuring click and an immaculately dressed woman in leather, platform heels enters the room. He exhales pointedly as if he had been holding his breath for a long while.
The man feels as if he is being massaged by her voice. And for a moment, he is submerged in water, floating, untethered.
“The cure is simpler than you think. It lies completely within your control.”
A brushstroke across his cheek. His mother’s tears. The exasperation of a lifetime.
“I want you to feel safe and secure. I want you to love again.”
‘Sometimes, it is too much to bear!’ He cries out. I don’t know where I should go, what I should do. My thoughts follow me everywhere.
“Some torments are inescapable. You must bear the weight. You must learn to cope.”