Rainbowradioactive

If salt were a physical feeling it would taste of a wound, he split his lip on a smile a while ago. Licking the gash as he waited...

He had a few days off, so he figured that when he got home he would do that thing he really didn't want to do.

So he found himself in the waiting room of a private psychiatrist's office next to a ficus plant just as stiff and stoic as he was in that moment, as he realized he'd admitted defeat to Elizabeth he tuned into the receptionist's radio in the background to the ambiance that which all hospitals and clinic had, though to Rowland it was more like a dentist's office... He could just hear her now, under the thought of whatever questions he could be drilled with.

He tensed his jaw as he waited. He actually got a card from Elizabeth after she called a psychologist to refer him to a psychiatrist, little did he know there was a difference...

The difference being that a psychiatrist is a medical grade pusher, to put it simply. Where as a