“Dozo”

My fist floats at the slightly ajar door, about to knock. He’s sitting at his desk, peeping at me from behind a thermos coffee cup. “Dozo” he says, those peeping eyes blink once. I enter. I sit in the chair slightly to the right of him. His legs swivel round to face me. Among this room of stuff, somehow we manage to put me back together.

“You have to tell people when things go wrong” he says. I nod. Everyone says this to me. I don’t know what else to tell them; already I feel as if I’ve given nearly all my secrets to the world. The thought of any more exposure makes me exhausted, much like I’d just awoken from a night of lying upon a windswept hill.

Deja vu. I sigh and avoid eye contact with the gentle and charming man opposite me. I am a magician, a chavette. I have this hood that hides my expression. Even though I can’t wear it indoors, I feel like my expression is somewhat hidden by it anyway. All around me there are things and objects arranged into strange piles of tamed chaos. I think of the insides of my head, spilled across these piles. Seeping into the pages. I look up at the man and smile for a second. He remains pensive, polite. A smile won’t do, I think. He wants me to talk to him. Another long silence that probably didn’t last as long as I thought.

“I can’t afford this city” I finally say. As the words leave my mouth they suddenly sound much smaller than when they were in my head. I want to grab them and stuff them back into my mouth, but they’re too light; they float away. Angry, I remember why I never talk to anyone. The man’s expression doesn’t change either; we’re like a pair of parking meters or toasters or refrigerators. I wonder if he beeps when he gets hungry. I wonder if his eyes which peep are backlit with LED lights.

“Ahhh” he finally breathes “you should go to the student affairs office and tell someone. Is there anything else?”

I lift my head. Its all heavy. I gaze at him, willing the rest of the words to float out like freed animals, but my mind has become blank and frozen.

"No, that's all," I smile.