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Therapy Sessions

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The room was on the smaller side, not what one would expect from looking at the building from the outside. It looked like it came out of a travel guide to Rome with the use of sculptural pillars and buttresses which were really unneeded. Too many windows that was just asking a sniper to take out anyone they decided had lived long enough. Where was the safety? The security? If they can't even care to protect their bodies how can they expect someone to simply hand over their darkest secrets in an unfortified 'sanctuary'?

A knock at the doorway made the man turn to look towards the sound only to be met with a small barely positive smile and tired whiskey eyes that only seemed to become heavier from the thin wire frames of reading glasses.

“Hello, Mr. Wilson I presume? I’m Peter Parker and I’ll be your therapist for your assigned evaluation.” Mr. Parker had a rather soft voice like that of a narrator that talks for nature documentaries that could help Wade get some sleep on those rather tougher nights.