HEAVY MANE

Rainfall: 0.765 inches

“Ethan. It’s not your fault.”

The consolation wasn’t heard as I stared at the architecture of the building. I used to be an architect, before everything collapsed on me. The glass windows were arched akin to a church, but instead was covered with blinds. It could be to help clients ignore the rain outside. There was only one circular window which linked this fantastically comforting room to the harsh and wet actuality through the glass.

“Ethan?”

Reality slapped me in the face and I returned to the psychiatrist’s room.

“Sorry, I was thinking. Yes?” He placed a packet in front of me. On the front was a swirly blotch of ink.

“What does this look like to you?” Pages were flipped as time dragged on endlessly. Until the last one caught my attention.

“And finally, Ethan, this one?”

“It’s... um... an origami horse.”

“Very descriptive, Ethan. Good job today, we accomplished a lot.” In reality, both of us knew we accomplished shit.

“Ethan, you know, you’re really lucky for surviving the trauma of the accident...”

“I don’t exactly feel lucky...” I replied and walked out.