The Things we do for Love

The consulting room was warm; the flowers weren't dying. There was no overbearing artwork in front of him but media aesthetics with motivational works.

"You don't have to suffer in silence."

The couch is covered in a rug of contemporary design and the therapist sat observant in her gaze. "What seems to be bothering you, Mr. Collins?"

He answered the question with the turn of his head. There was another couch, unoccupied and bleak. He scanned it from top to bottom to only find out that its space was occupied. He started to fiddle with his hands to keep himself occupied; to not blurt out something obscene. But he did anyway.

"Tell me."He hesitated to look up at her. "What do you see on the adjacent couch?"

Her pen stopped its work and she looked up. Looking from him to the couch and back. "Nothing Mr. Collins."