Revelation

41 2 2
                                    

Robert sat at his desk, sombre and silent. The evening sun grew larger on the horizon and its hues pierced through the only window to his office. Shards of glass lay in front of him, some stained with his blood from when he slammed a picture frame with his palm. A picture of him and Emily. He found it unfair on the part of the universe to rob him of those last few days they were to spend together, because a few days ago, Emily had unceremoniously died.

Unaware of how to handle grief and unable to hold in his emotions, Robert had burst out in his office. As he looked around the floor, papers strewn around, chairs broken in half, and the wall peeling apart from the impact of his blows, he broke down. Tears flowed over his three day old stubble as the brusque interior of his soul melted. 'How is this fair!? Why her? She has always been the good one! Why her!? She had a few weeks left to live, and she was robbed of that!? WHY!?' Robert thought as he cried uncontrollably.

A few minutes later, there was a feeble knock on the door. 'Dr. Reeves, it's me' said the faint little voice from the other side 'Sylvia'. 'Just a minute!' Robert said as he wiped his eyes dry, dumped the glass shards below the table and tied up his bleeding hand with a piece of cloth. The rest of the shambled office, he decided against cleaning. 'Come in Sylvia' he called out

Sylvia entered the office and found it in the wrecked state. She was shocked but gradually turned sympathetic. 'I am sorry for your loss, Dr. Reeves. My mother told me about Ms. Emily' she said.

'Oh! So the word is already out. That was fast!' Robert said, as he tried to control his temper. 'I am sorry Sylvia. My anger wasn't directed at you. Please sit!'

Sylvia grabbed the only chair that survived Robert's outburst and set it upright. She sat on the chair, placed her elbows over the table and calmly waited for Robert to speak.

'It's life. Things happen. But a professional learns to move on from it and focus on his profession. I think I need to move on as well. I apologize for asking you to meet me outside office hours. I had to cancel our morning session, but I have a responsibility towards my patients and their well-being. So, here we are'. Robert gradually gathered his composure and looked Sylvia in the eye. 'Tell me Sylvia, how have you been?'

'The past week has been good. I think I am finally getting the hang of it. The medication has been a tremendous help. I have been able to sleep through the night without any interruptions and more importantly without any dreams. Thank you very much for the help, Dr. Reeves!'

'I'm glad to hear that, Sylvia. I went through your mother's book last week. She is truly a gifted writer.' Robert said as he grabbed the book from his bag and put it on the table.

'Yes. She is. I'll pass along your compliments to her' Sylvia said, a smile over her face.
Robert felt the warmth of her smile, a genuinely happy smile, the first during their sessions. 'In fact Dr. Reeves, if you don't mind, I would be honoured if you could visit us tonight for dinner. You could pass on the compliments yourself. My mother respects you a lot and I'm sure you two would bond well. She's also a really good cook, so you'd love the food. It would also be a good change of venue for you. It might put you in a better mood and help you move on.'

Robert leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and his palms folded in front of his mouth. He turned back to face the window and stared into the horizon, as twilight ensued and the skies grew a dark hue of orange. Deep in thought, his eyes widened in realization, as he confirmed what he had suspected for some time. As the truth became apparent to him, the horizon starting looking blurry, grains enveloped his vision and his arms collapsed. The truth almost buckled him. He startled up to ease himself into consciousness and supported himself against the window. As he looked over the table, he saw Sylvia sitting on the chair, looking concerned.

The Dreamworld of Sylvia StoneWhere stories live. Discover now