I was picking a therapist. Sue slid a chair close to mine and looked at the screen with me.
“Ooh, it’s like dating,” she said. The therapists have headshots you click on.
Sue had caught me pouring bourbon into coffee.
“Really? It’s nine o’clock.”
“Been a tough day. Already.”
“You need to see a therapist.”
“I need better whiskey.”
“No. You need to talk to somebody.”
I chose Melody. She looked like a girl scout grandmother. My age.
“Doc,” I said, “I don’t know how this is supposed to work.”
“Easy,” she said. Pretend we’re on a date.”
Travis Stephens is a tugboat captain who resides with his family in California. A graduate of University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, recent credits include: 2River, Sheila-Na-Gig, Hole in the Head Review, GRIFFEL, and The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature.