"Take a seat, Richard. How are you today?"

"Well, I could say I'm having a bad day,
but I guess that's normal."

"Talk to me. What's on your mind?"

"I was seven years old and walking to school."

"Yes."

"The number five bus passed me.
I saw my parents staring through
one of the windows on it.
My father looked very angry."

"And this upset you?"

"After school, I returned home.
I was thrashed by my father with his leather belt.
He said he was embarrassed I was his son.
He said I looked like a freak, walking on my own,
when other children had friends."

"What did you think you looked like?"

"A freak."

"And now?"

"A freak."

"Richard."

"Yes."

"I love you."

"And I love you."

"We must talk more often, Richard."

"Yes, we must. Thank you, Richard."

"No. Thank you."