Kazimir approached the therapist's office. The sign had been vandalized — it now reads "THE RA**ST," with the E scratched just enough to leave a gap.
Egon Janz, the leader of the elected council, stepped out, avoiding eye contact as he passed Kazimir.
As Kazimir stepped inside, the air smelled faintly of dust and freshly sprayed sanitizer. It reminded him of a hospital room, clean but not quite clean enough.
Dr. Post greeted him with a calm smile. Her hair looked freshly brushed, almost like she'd just stepped out of a mirror.
As he sat down on the couch, he caught a small detail — her shirt was slightly uneven. Strange—she usually looked sharp and put-together, always careful with her appearance.
He always noticed things like that—creases, symmetry, the little flaws most people miss. That's what happened when your mind once lived in blueprints.
The doctor stood, walked to the mini-fridge near one of the walls, and grabbed a small bottle of water. She placed it on the table in front of him, then returned to her chair with a soft smile. "How have you been doing, Kazimir?"
"Same as yesterday."
"Any new dreams since our last session? Or memories that felt different?"
"Mostly no. They're the same dreams, just a bit clearer now. Nothing new."
"Mostly?" She asked.
"There's a new one. It felt different… like something I've been missing, even if I don't know why. It felt like it belonged to me more. Felt closer somehow. I wanted it to be."
"Describe it to me?"
"I was in a hospital, staring through glass. It was a delivery room, there were no signs. But I knew it."
"What was in the room? Your late wife?"
"No," he paused, "she was next to me. And she looked... Older, for some reason."
"could you see who was in that room?"
He answered, "A woman holding a baby. I saw their faces — they felt familiar, but I couldn't place them. Like I once knew them, but somehow lost track of who they were. I just kept looking at them, trying to remember. Trying to catch something... Until... Until a nurse came out of the room and said to me, 'Congratulations, the two girls are healthy. Would you like to hold them?' I said yes, and they brought them to me. I reached out to hold them, and..."
"And?" Dr. Post asked.
"I don't remember. I woke up. Maybe,"
"OK, that's, fine. This dream, what emotions did it trigger inside of you, seeing those babies in the nurse's hands?"
"Nothing unique, if I had to say. I'd go with happy.. Happiness, I guess."
"Good," she said. "We've made good progress compared to our earlier session. And, you see, maybe those good dreams are your mind's special way of telling you that there's more to life. That there's no reason to grieve anymore. I think this is the way you are telling yourself to.. Move on.. Let go of the past."
"Or maybe, it's my inner mind telling me what a good life, I never had."
"This may, as well, be true. It's left to you to decide what it is and what it can do to you. Tell me, what about communication? Any signs of progress there? Outside of your Alfred and I?"
"Not really." He said, "The most I got was getting the food myself."
"And did you speak with Velma?"
"Who's Velma?"
"The food lady."
"No, She said something and I just nodded."
"If you had said something… what do you feel it would've been?"
"Nothing special. If there was something worth saying, I would've said it."
There was a pause. Like she didn't get what she was fishing for. Then she spoke
"Anything else unusual happen lately? Anything you want to bring up?"
"Nope."
She gave a small nod, scribbled something on her notepad. "Well, you've opened up a little more today. Give it time. Your head will blow open on its own." She smiled faintly. "Same time in two weeks, then."