Part 6 of 6 by Madam Z

Good grief, you don’t have to be so rude about it! I know you have patients with much worse problems; though I didn’t realize you specialized in Auschwitz survivors and people who have been forced to hear the name of their favorite rock band mispronounced over and over and over. I admit that my having A LARGE PULSATING BLOB IN MY HEAD can’t compare to their problems, but I still feel that I deserve some therapy, or at least some compassion. Now wait a minute... what are you doing with that hammer? No, I don’t want you to “knock some sense into [me],” even if it could release the “evil spirits,” which isn’t even what I... ay, yi, yi, ow, ow! Omigod, what’s that coming out of my head... it’s some kind of yellow stuff... it looks like fat... chicken fat, and yes, yes I do feel better now!


Madam Z, author of Headroom, Part 5, finds her padded cell quite comfortable, thank you.