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The Day my Therapist Dumped Me

I sat on the street outside my therapist’s office smoking a cigarette. The door was locked so I assumed her to be running a bit late. We had seen each other four times. Talked of parents and childhood and sexual repression. The whole shah-bang. Making progress, I suppose. I waited – five past, ten past – a car makes a sharp U-turn and pulls up … Continue reading The Day my Therapist Dumped Me