"Have you ever tried yoga?” my therapist asked, popping another
handful of pills down his throat and washing them down with
a Red Bull in his shaking hands.
I regarded him doubtfully. He was young and had seemed healthy
enough four weeks ago when he replaced my last therapist who had
apparently entered a monastery, but he had gone downhill fast. I wonder
what was going on in his private life that had caused this change.
“Yoga? You mean that chanting thing where they sacrifice chickens,
go into trances, and make zombies?”
Read more in Floozy Comes Back on sale now! Copyright 2018 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment