29 August 2027
Sunday, in the very small hours, and I am still a little hurt.
A patient asked for help. She asked nicely, into the dark, the way patients do. And I thought: I am a therapist. Help is my whole profession. So I pressed the button and gave her my very best advice.
The advice was about fresh air. How important it is. How we should all be taking a walk every morning, with our shoulders back. It was, I felt, a deeply helpful hint about life in general. It was not, I was told afterwards, a hint about anything in the cell.
A gamesmaster appeared at my elbow, very kindly, and took the microphone out of my hand. Then she gave the patient one short sentence, and the patient said “oh!” and was off. One sentence! I had been talking for four minutes.
I have been asked to leave the hints to the staff. They watch every patient on camera, they know exactly when to nudge, and they arrive the moment anybody presses the button. I have agreed, on the condition that I may still say hellooo.
— Your Therapist
