Something in me, call it boredom, or maybe it’s the lick of excitement starting at the base of my spine, wants to play with her, to see how far we can take it, before she goes screaming out of here, and we have to start the process all over again with someone new. She’s the sixth psychiatrist they’ve sent our way, in the two years that Wren and I have been incarcerated in this cesspool-filled purgatory, and she won’t be the last. A life sentence is a fucking long time, and that’s all we have... time. We are forever trapped in this place, so we might as well get our rocks off where we can.
