Q&A II

The THERAPIST and PATIENT are standing in the THERAPIST's office. The THERAPIST is beaming at the PATIENT, who had just had a BREAKTHROUGH.

PATIENT: (stunned) I can do anything. Anything at all! The sky is purple!

She rushes past the THERAPIST to peer out the window. The sky remains the same indeterminate color.

THERAPIST: What color is the sky?

PATIENT: Purple!

Purple light continues to shimmer through the window.

THERAPIST: Think deeper! When we first started, you were in the chair and I was on the couch! Why?

THERAPIST?: Because I'm the THERAPIST and you're the patient?

PATIENT?: Deeper! Deeper! What do you need?

THERAPIST: To understand!

The THERAPIST needed to understand.

PATIENT: This is it! Do you need further evidence?

THERAPIST: I do!

PATIENT: Wendy's eyes shot open. She turned her head groggily to look at the clock. 3:49. Fuck.

THERAPIST: What?

PATIENT: Stop interrupting, the PATIENT said. Wendy shook her head. Where did that come from?

Wendy's eyes shot open. She turned her head groggily to look at the clock. 3:49. Fuck. What?

Stop interrupting Stop interrupting Stop interrupting stop stop-

Wendy shook her head. Where did that come from?

She felt dizzy and put a hand on her nightstand to steady herself.

Wendy took a deep breath and looked down the length of her arm to her nightstand. There were so many things about it that weren't knowable.

"This is teak," she said. The nightstand was still made of <G0G0HO90>.

"What is this table made of?" she asked herself, very non-rhetorically. "Mahogany," she told herself.

Before Wendy's eyes, the table had always been mahogany.