“You already know the answer,     
don’t you? Why don’t you just cut the  
bullshit and give it to me?”           
     “Believe me. I’d love to give it  
to you straight,” you said, “but you   
won’t believe me, until you figure it  
out for yourself anyway. All I can do  
is help guide you there.”              
     “Not even a clue, huh?”           
     “Nope,” you said and got up, “Now,
get the hell out of here, before I     
start charging you even more money.    
     “And don’t forget that Journal,”  
you added and then closed the door on  
me.                                    
     I thought that’d be easy, espe-   
cially since you didn’t care what I    
wrote.                                 
     “Even if you just babble incoher- 
ently, I don’t care. I just want to    
* read something you wrote,” were your     
exact  words,  but  that  was obviously
bullshit too.                          
     On my way home and with that in   
mind, I stopped and bought a big note- 
book and some pens. I started writing  
that night, and by our next session, it
was almost full.                       
     “What the fuck is this shit?” you 
said, after reading the first para-    
graph, and then tossed it back at me.  
“This is gibberish, masquerading as... 
Shit, Crim, did you just open a dictio-
nary and randomly write words down?”   
     I reread it, and damn, you were   
right. I always thought my writing was 
ok, but this was crap, and double damn,
that really was hard to admit, Doc.    



CHAPTER 1: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15th
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