“John, let’s do some word association, okay?”


The doctor shifted in his chair. “Pardon?”

With the black in his eyes, it was impossible to really tell where John was looking, but to the doctor, it looked as if he was staring off into nowhere — either that or an uninteresting corner of the ceiling.

“I’ve started already.”

The doctor thought about this for an instant.

“Alright. Dog.”









“Da- …. I don’t want to do this any more. Why don’t you ask me about my mother?”

“Do you want to talk about your mother, John?”

“No. Not really. But she made great oatmeal cookies when I was a kid. Oatmeal and raisin.”