Joker: A Fair Lady.

VIII

"Arthur, I have something to inform you," his doctor speak.

He smoked, seemed to ignore his psychiatrist, removed his cigar and watched the woman.

"You never listen, right?" He spit. She stood firm. "You only interrogation the same questions every week. How is your job? Have you had negative thoughts?" He stopped, brought the cigar back to his mouth and inhaled.

"Arthur ..."

"All I have are negative thoughts. And despite that, all my life, I never knew if I really existed. But I know and people have begun to notice."

The doctor sighed exhaustedly, joined her hands together and ignoring the words of her patient, she looked at him firmly.

"This medical center is going to close. They cut our funds and, I'm sorry to say, but that includes your medication service." Arthur seemed to ignore the above. "The people who decided this usually have no importance to those who affect, even me. They don't give a shit."

Silence covered the place and Arthur's response was a thin smile.

♣♦♥♠

Arthur's lazy steps revealed his pessimism. The sun was close to hiding and he forged that daily routine he had adopted to pick up Grace after her work. While outside the building and in search of a cigar, Arthur prepared to read the newspapers, being part of his new tradition. Thomas Wayne appeared in the headlines and a little envy arose from not seeing the notes on his act at the subway station, he read the controversial statements of the future candidate for mayor of this city. Wayne, before the murder of his employees and the rebellion that the people were doing, had the great audacity to refer to the next to elect him as mayor, as clowns. They were all clowns and not in a good way.

Arthur brought the cigar to his mouth and cynically mocked Wayne's words. A clown had killed three men who worked for him, a clown had raised the masses and, although his words were malicious, Thomas Wayne did not imagine that the weary people of this city would become clowns to make him see the rich who they were already exhausted from their abuses and disinterest.

"You are Grace's couple, right?" He listened, turned around and watched a senior man wearing a mailman's uniform. Arthur blinked quickly and finally nodded. "I'm glad to meet you, I'm Bob Kersh, a lifelong postman," he greeted as he extended his hand. Arthur reciprocated the greeting. "I work with her. She will take a while to get out, it's in a meeting and she asked me to let you know."

"Thank you," he replied, bringing the cigar to his mouth. He looked back at the newspapers but felt the man watching him. He looked at the corner of his eye and tried to ignore him.

"I like you," he said. Arthur did not avoid a surprise expression on his face. "Well, I like you to be with Grace." An arched eyebrow was his answer. "Ever since she is with you, she looks very happy and I'm glad she has a good man."

"Thank you?"

Mr. Kersh approached him and patted his shoulder. Strangely Arthur looked now with discomfort but at the same time he had liked that gesture. At that moment Mr. Kersh turned his gaze to the newspapers and read the headlines, a sigh emerged from him and redirected his gaze to Arthur.

"How do you see this situation? I really don't know if I feel good or bad for it." Fleck frowned. "Why?" He asked.

"Son, I've lived here since I was born. This city is not one of the best in this country, perhaps it is the worst, and now with what happened in that subway, the town has risen."

In that moment, the redhead appeared, she greeted Arthur with great enthusiasm and then Mr. Kersh.

"I see you met Mr. Kersh," the woman said smiling and hugging his arm.