Distrust
The Psychiatrist is in, the patient told himself. The white reinforced door slowly creaked open revealing the doctor standing behind it. He stepped inside, eyeing the patient with great interest. White walls, white ceilings, no object to distract or get in the way of the interview. The patient just sat there, seemingly unimpressed with his entrance. His trembling hand is the only flaw in his poker face act. Tap, tap, tap, tap, the sound of the patient tapping against the steel table. It ripples through the air, breaking through the silence. The taps sounded random, but the doctor can’t help but think there’s a pattern to the taps. Like there was some unseen method to an act of madness. The doctor, in a rush to begin the session, threw a folder onto the table. It’s content scattered across the table, pictures, data, checklists, anything that could aid the interview. He sat down and took out a voice recorder. And thus the interview began. “We’re recording this conversation, any