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"
I
’
m
listening
,
Charlie
.
"
"
Only
listening
?
Don
’
t
you
ever
get
angry
?
"
"
Why
do
you
want
me
to
be
angry
with
you
?
"
I
sighed
.
"
Stolid
Strauss
—
unmovable
.
I
’
ll
tell
you
something
.
I
’
m
sick
and
tired
of
coming
here
.
What
’
s
the
sense
of
therapy
any
more
?
You
know
as
well
as
I
do
what
’
s
going
to
happen
.
"
"
But
I
think
you
don
’
t
want
to
stop
,
"
he
said
.
"
You
want
to
go
on
with
it
,
don
’
t
you
?
"
"
It
’
s
stupid
.
A
waste
of
my
time
and
yours
.
"
I
lay
there
in
the
dim
light
and
stared
at
the
pattern
of
squares
on
the
ceiling
.
.
.
noise
-
absorbing
tiles
with
thou
sands
of
tiny
holes
soaking
up
every
word
.
Sound
buried
alive
in
little
holes
in
the
ceiling
.
I
found
myself
becoming
lightheaded
.
My
mind
was
a
blank
,
and
that
was
unusual
because
during
therapy
ses
-
sions
I
always
had
a
great
deal
of
material
to
bring
out
and
talk
about
.
Dreams
.
.
.
memories
.
.
.
associations
.
.
.
prob
lems
.
.
.
But
now
I
felt
isolated
and
empty
.
Only
Stolid
Strauss
breathing
behind
me
.
