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6:00 on a Thursday

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No talking or laughing, Not even the quiet hindrance of elevator music, reminding me with a repetitive jazz beat,I've been here for a while. Just pens scribbling, pages flipping, and noses sniffling. Eh Hem. I Clear my throat to put a crack in the heavy silence and break the staring contest between me and a woman in blue.
I hear a door, "Ms. Meyer, I can see you now,''
I walk into an office the size of my bathroom and slide into an itchy tan chair. I observed as Dr.B plopped into a more comforting seat and sling his leg over the arm rest. His office smelled of coffee. Mm, coffee. I could go for some now.
"Everything we discuss is confidential" he assured, raising his hand up to his disheveled hair and resting his hand under his chin.
"OK," I agreed, ignoring the presence of my father, counting the days until Friday on his blueberry calender.
My father leaves, which is relieving. Dr. B assures me I will see him every month. I shake his rough hands, and count the days till next month to lose my time to a cup of cold coffee and an itchy tan chair.

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