They are whispering to me.

I was in bed yesterday, or maybe two days ago, I can’t remember for sure. I was laying there, wide awake, and I heard someone say my name. I was so awake, I know it was real. It wasn’t a dream.

I didn’t need to get up and look out back to know they were there. I imagined their eyes burning in the dark, like stars low on the horizon.

Somehow, I knew it was special that they spoke my name. They said it gently over and over, in a slow and regular repetition.

I made it to the shrink. The first time I’d ever gone to a therapist in my life. He was a nice guy. There was paperwork to fill out, and the usual questions psychiatrists ask when you see them on TV shows, like asking about my childhood and shit like that....

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