Visiting hours are two to four. See? I wrote that down, in my new journal. Do you like it? It was a present from the doctors.

They tell me I’m supposed to write things down. They say they want to help me but I have to help them first. They tell me that I should try to write things down if I can’t talk about them. It’s a tool you see, like the sticks that those monkeys stick down into ant hills, only it’s larger and has a pink cover.

But see? All I can write today is, Visiting hours are two to four. I suppose it’s because I’m trying to write down the truth and that’s as far as I can get.

Besides, I feel so calm today. Isn’t it a wonderful thing to sit calmly and perfectly still? I’m like a little white boat on a blue lake. Why rake it all up? All that mess? Why try to get at it? When I can keep my head above the water like this, when I can sit so still like this and let the minutes wash over me like a tide.

Maybe in the spring, I said. Maybe I could write then, when the trees start to bud, when they start to get on with things.

When the birds come back, I can start by naming them one by one by one. In my diary I mean. Maybe I could scratch out the names of all the things that are getting on with it. Or maybe, then, I could write in my diary like a girl. The letters all soft bends and bounces. Maybe it all amounts to the same thing.

See? I have been given a list of prompts. I’m to answer them one by one until I find myself answering the questions that they want me to. Until the words I give them are the words they want. You see, I see how it goes. How they are playful maybe, or at least how they are playing a game with me. Anyway, I’m to give it to them at my next appointment and me wishing myself out of it doesn’t change anything a bit. And here I am up in my chair and bright and cheerful today and ready to go so I might as well start. Do you want to hear the first one? Here, I’ll read it out for you.

What is the thing you are not saying. No, I’m kidding. I can be a lot of fun at parties. Here it is, Name ten things you would like to say yes to. Oh, that’s terrible. There’s nothing to work with there. Shall we try another? The thing I am most worried about is … These questions have no life in them! None at all! Let’s try another, I feel happiest when … Or, I couldn’t live without …

No, I don’t think there’s anything to say. Maybe when the birds come back, maybe in the spring. Isn’t April the month for telling secrets? It’s too cold now anyway, any words I say will freeze before they leave my mouth. And I was feeling so well and wonderful.