Joker: A Fair Lady.

III

Arthur brought the cigar to his mouth; he did not want to talk, and it showed since he had crossed the threshold of that door. His psychiatrist, under the tutelage of social security, watched his patient tired; she did not want to assist him.

"Arthur," she called, and he did not look up. He continued smoking and let the smoke escape through his nostrils. The doctor placed her arms on the desk and looked at him severely. "Arthur, tell me, how have you been doing these days?"

"As they should be," he said. He looked up and observed without wishing his doctor. "How should they be?"

"Normal." He brought the cigar to his mouth and did not take his eyes off the doctor, who was keeping her face severe. "Do you bring your diary with you?"

Arthur was static and looked coldly at his doctor until, with a gentle movement, he took out his diary which was an old and wrinkled notebook. She took it and opened it to review its contents. The words that lay in those sheets, the drawings, the images, they were proof of the chaotic storm that inhabited Fleck's head. The doctor continued reading Arthur's deepest longings that was not only being a comedian, as he had said in some past, Arthur wanted to die.

The doctor looked up and watched a tranquility and serenity detonate on his face, but his body language said otherwise. His legs were rising rapidly, his hands were trembling lightly, and she appreciated how the cigar moved. The doctor sighed and closed the notebook and handed it back. Arthur took his small part of life and a slight smile covered his face.

"I was thinking that I need to increase the dose of my medication."

"Arthur, you take seven medications. Increasing the dose would be too much for you and for what the insurance covers." He shrugged. "I only suggested."

"Keep with your medications and keep writing in your journal," she finished with a bitter smile.

♣♦♥♠

The cold air pounded on Fleck's cheeks as well as the repulsive scent of the city pummeled on his nose; Gotham was the worst city to live. Its corruption, the endless garbage and the rich being richer and the poor being poorer. What a mockery it was to see Thomas Wayne; emblematic businessman, political figure and next representative of the people, showing his face in each television program, in each newspaper and his voice resounding on the radio every moment of the day. Arthur did not understand why his mother insisted that Thomas Wayne could help them. That this man could take them out of the deep misery they had lived since he had reason. He snorted bitterly as he pulled out a new cigar. The smoke went along with the blizzard of air and Arthur looked at the clock, it would soon be lunchtime and he was far from the place mentioned. He turned back and accelerated his steps to arrive early for his appointment.

♣♦♥♠

Grace had a moment of peace in her office, she took a small mirror from her drawer and examined her makeup and hairstyle. Everything looked good. Her cheeks were dyed in a light pink, highlighting her skin and the long reddish hair she had. Her silly smile caught the attention of her companions, she put away her mirror and resumed accommodating her papers.

"You look beautiful today, Grace," one of her companions said. "Will something special happen today?" She asked with a mischievous smile. The redhead tried to hide the joy that detonated her face and avoid looking at her companions. "No. Nothing will happen today."

"Sure Grace!" Exclaimed another co-worker. "Looks like you're going on a date."

She let out a snort and looked at the clock on the wall. There were not far from lunchtime and Grace decided to ignore her companions and wait for the time to arrive.