In 100 words

I wondered how you were doing on my drive over here, she said. She was wearing pink strappy heels. I always wanted to wear those. Later I go online shopping and see them, and somehow her presence, reflected in my computer screen. We don’t do virtual sessions because I hate them. I need an actual, flesh-and-blood person. She is the epitome of slapping someone back into reality. She hears me talk about them, my flesh-and-blood people, and she says, “Miserable f*cks.” She asks me about my inner world. I focus on her heels, and wonder about what, who, we choose.