Oh My God, Edna

"Darling," said her therapist, "you need to control yourself. I saw your photo."

"I was drinking coffee! I am not out of control! Goddamnit," she shouted.

"Watch your language. You know how it gets to you."

"Listen, Edna, I'm sick and tired of this life. I am not lying, but I am compelled to saying that I was dreaming. I don't want to lie. And I'm not. I visited Oz. I meet that scarecrow, that tin-man, that cowardly lion. I am so not crazy."

"I see, see," Edna said, writing something down in her pad.

"And I hate coming into your office everyday. It makes me so mad. I can't believe Autnie Em made me do this just to let me come to New York. Jesus Christ!"

"You're a Christian? I never knew that," Edna said.

Dorothy glared at her menacingly.

"Anywho, any other concerns you have."

She wanted to say: I wanna switch therapists. You suck.

But she managed to control herself. She sighed.

"I'd like to leave now," she said.

"Darling, I still got another half hour with you. Sit down."

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god..." Edna repeated, writing it down on her pad.

"Oh my god? You're seriously writing that?"

"Every detail, my dear. Every detail. Asks why I wrote down 'oh my god," Edna said, scribbling away.

Dorothy zipped her mouth and sat there.

"Zips mouth," Edna writes.

Dorothy wanted to scream. She wanted to break every vase that was on every table in this office. She wanted Edna to surgically remove that annoying 'birth mark' on her temple. She wanted to grab Edna's notebook and placed it in the shredder and shred every slit of paper. She also wanted to yank out that one white hair in Edna's short black crop. She sat still and didn't talk for that half hour.

"You may leave," Edna said.

Dorothy grabbed her purse and left. Helen called instantly.

"How was it?" Helen asked.

"Don't even ask," she said.

"Aww, was it that bad?"

"Yessss," she said, stretching the word out.

"Well, at least it's over."

"Yeah," she said, "I guess. I'll come by soon."

Click. Pose, Dorothy!

DOROTHY SPOTTED ON HER PHONE: SHE'S PROBABLY TALKING TO AN IMAGINARY SOURCE IN OZ!

 

The End

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