Short Story: The Listener

He sat on his chair, waiting for another client to come. His metallic body was welded into the spot. He could move his hands and head to portray empathy when the talker wanted him to, but nothing else. He couldn’t walk away. Not that he was sure why he should. It seemed like the whole world came to him at one time or another. Mostly a slight tilt to the right side ensured people kept talking, and he heard the most amazing stories and thoughts never said aloud to any living being. Sometimes he wo...