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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Contest · #2228202
A conversation with my doctor at the sanitarium.
“Doctor Niethier, I don’t really know why I have to keep coming. I’m completely stable. Boringly so. ”

“That isn’t what my reports read, Mr. Aceituno. In fact, they read the exact opposite.”

“Well, they’re wrong then. If it wasn’t such a big inconvenience to drive all the way here, I’d say it’s almost funny how wrong they are.”

“Could you repeat that, Mr. Aceituno?”

“About the reports being wrong? Gladly. They’re wrong.”

“No, Mr. Aceituno, about you driving here.”

“Oh, sure. It’s a long drive. Almost forty five minutes and it rained the whole time and you know how much I hate driving when it’s raining. Ever heard about hydroplaning? It’s a very scary word.”

“I was under the impression you couldn’t drive at all. Being born and raised in a city with affordable public transportation, you never needed a driver’s license. That’s what you’ve told me in the past. You even seemed to be a little defensive about it.”

“That’s very interesting but I think I remember the drive pretty clearly.”

“Really? What’s your car make and color?”

“It’s a blue Lexus, Doctor.”

“Year and model?”

“It’s a.... hmmm… I guess you got me there.”

“Where did you drive from?”

“That one’s easy. My apartment.”

“Excellent. How does it look like.”

“Well, it’s only one room but it’s pretty cozy...”

“Living room or kitchen?”

“No, I don’t think it has either of those.”

“By any chance, is there a sign on the door that says Denkbeeldig Sanatorium of Amsterdam?

“Now that you mention it…”

“Do you see what I mean?”

“I do see what you mean, yes.”

“And tell me, Manuel, do you remember what brought you here, originally?”

“Something about my wife, right? I stole something from her.”

“She gave you something.”

“Do I have a wife or am I hallucinating her? That would suck. I love thinking of myself as a married man. Makes me feel like an adult.”

“Oh, yes, don’t worry. You do have a wife. Do you remember what you did with what she gave you?”

“Yes. I ate it. It tasted horrible. So bitter. Now, why would I do that?”

“Babe?”

“Hold on, love. Doctor, why do you think I ate what she gave me.”

“I’d say it was probably some kind of food, Mr. Aceituno.”

“Some kind of food… what could it be?”

“Hey, babe, are the mushrooms getting you high yet? I’m already feeling it.”

“What, love?”

“The mushrooms.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think they’re doing anything for me. Excuse me one second, love. Doctor? ...Doctor? Now, where did he go?”

Word count:430
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