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    Prospero
    Prospero
    Prospero
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    Prospero

    By Jamie Crothall

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Dr. Jacobs is new at her job and he knows it.
    Unlike the other patients who wear their mental state outwardly like clothing, he keeps a cool and calm composure. He identifies himself only as 'Eight', and he has a simple story - he has lived his life many times, carrying his past knowledge with him each time.
    Set to convince him of his fallacy through inquisitive conversation, Dr. Jacobs instead finds his tales of struggle against causality and morality strangely compelling, but will her regrets compel her to forgo her profession and instead conspire to re-write her own life?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJamie Crothall
    Release dateMay 22, 2012
    ISBN9781476158471
    Prospero
    Author

    Jamie Crothall

    Jamie Crothall is an aspiring writer who's giving his work a chance at exposure by breaking down the old-world stereotype of the publishing industry and embracing this wonderful new age of ebooks and shared information. Plus chicks like authors.

    Read more from Jamie Crothall

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      Book preview

      Prospero - Jamie Crothall

      Prospero

      by Jamie Crothall

      Copyright 2012 Jamie Crothall

      Smashwords Edition

      Discover other titles by the author at;

      www.jamiecrothall.com

      This ebook is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it, please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of independent authors.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      0 - The Ugly Truth

      1 - Time Capsule

      2 - In Too Deep

      3 - Reaching Out

      4 - Falling

      5 - Knowing People

      6 - Someone to Pull the Trigger

      7 - Devil With the Green Eyes

      8 - Evergreen

      0- THE UGLY TRUTH

      When she looked into the room the first thing she noticed was his confident poise. He wasn’t dreading an intense psycho-analysis by which his own sanity and worth would be judged. He was awaiting a rousing debate, an argument where he already assumed the upper hand and had several aces up his sleeve. More daunting was that he had not yet seen her and this was his own esoteric demeanour, his inter-personal interactions were yet to be tested and already dreaded. Her own inexperience was hindrance enough, and it was much more helpful when her patients had the decency to be wary of her and gracious in her presence. If anyone held the upper hand then it should have been her. After all, she did wield the red pen.

      She sighed as she put on her white coat and flipped her black pony-tail out of her collar. She then looked down at the desk and sought a blank piece of paper to attach to the clip-board she held - a shield to match her pen, mightier than any sword. Assuming the appropriate posture, straightening her back and neck, she took a deep and reassuring breath then broke the seal that separated them by entering the room.

      The common area was occupied but hardly bustling. She walked past Gerald, a middle-aged man with the borderline lycanthropic delusion that he was an oversized mouse. The unfortunate thing about mice is that they are incontinent, and diapers to fit a three hundred pound man were not easy to come by. He was curled up on the couch watching a Disney movie. He was genuinely excited to see her, but then realized that he became too excited, and a guilty expression assumed his face. An orderly swooped in to attend to him.

      She then nodded a brief and awkward greeting to Denise. She was a sex addict, assuming that fellating doorknobs is considered sexual. Her objectophilia knew no bounds, sometimes baring no regard for sex or species. She was watching the same Disney movie and nursing a cup of juice. Literally.

      Further into this realm she nearly tripped over Reggie, the invisible man. He was laying on the floor. Not one to be deterred, he became renewed in his belief when he formulated that obstructing people by hiding or being in awkward places only proved that he was in fact non-existent to the human eye, lest they would have seen and avoided him. Her immediate reaction was to apologize, stating that she didn’t see him down there, but upon realization she cursed herself. That probably nullified the value of a few sessions worth of progress.

      Those were not the sum total of the common area’s occupants, but the were by far the most animated. She didn’t have to make eye contact with the new patient to realize that he had acknowledged her presence and greeted her with a warm over-confident smile. She sat down across from him, keeping her gaze down upon the clip-board as she jotted down the date. She then glanced at the clock and wrote down the time.

      Good morning Mister…Eight?

      That is correct, he replied, his voice soft and smooth.

      Is that your first name or last name?

      That is correct, he replied again.

      She wasn’t going to fall ploy to games at this early stage. She continued undaunted. My name is Dr. Taylor Jacobs, Mr. Eight. I am told that you believe that you are immortal, and I would like to determine what positive or negative life event has led you to this rather dangerous conclusion before you do yourself or anyone else irreparable harm.

      There was a moment of silence that followed, in which the patient clearly expected more dialogue before being left to speak on his own behalf.

      Is that it? he asked, clearly disappointed. No small talk? No pandering? No attempts to find some common ground on which to build a familiarity and trust? You’re just going straight for the heart of the issue, charging at your quarry without even testing your footing? Why you are either incredibly confident, Dr. Jacobs, or terribly naïve, and seeing as your understanding of the diagnosis is completely unfounded then I might also throw inattentive into the equation as well. I must say I am very disappointed. I expected much more of you.

      She finally looked up from her paper, which had yet to record more than the date and time, and glanced at her patient. She was already at a loss. In response to this he simply smiled playfully

      Oh dear, he said, implying a tone of concern, whatever are you going to do with me?

      He was an older man, pushing fifty if he hadn’t already reached it, but he was in good form for his age. He bore no signs of hard living or abuse. He had no scars, and his hair and nails were impeccably cared for. His confidence unnerved her inexperience, but otherwise he had a rather fatherly way about him. Had he been in a suit then many would have been compelled to buy prime swamp land real estate

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