Dr. Foster split her professional time between the hospital, her practice downtown, and her home. The latter being where she saw a few select patients I always referred to as The Crazy Ones. Not out of judgment. I was the last person who would ever do that. Besides, I’ve always kind of admired Dr. Foster for her ethics toward her patients and how much time she dedicated to making sure they got the help they needed. I, for one, had directly benefited from such work ethics. I’d also recently moved on from having our sessions in her office downtown and had become the newest member of The Crazy Ones, ever since my last episode.

For the first two weeks immediately following my discharge from St. Yve’s, I saw Dr. Foster on a daily basis. As of week number three, we gradually began reverting to our usual schedule, with appointments every Monday and Thursday at 5:00 p.m. There was a coffee shop just around the corner from her house where I used to wait until it was time to go in for my appointment. I did that whenever I was early, which was basically every time since I was never late for one of my sessions. I didn’t particularly enjoy waiting rooms, but that was only one of the reasons why I preferred waiting in the coffee shop.

Truth was, it was almost always quiet, cozy enough; there was always Bowie playing in the background, and the coffee was just the way I liked it, every time. Also, as of the last week, whenever I went to the coffee shop and ordered my usual white chocolate mocha, I noticed the only other customer was this one guy who always had his head down and kept extremely focused on whatever it was he was doing on his laptop. The first couple of times, I didn’t much pay attention to him, not really. But then I started noticing how he did the same thing, always.