The driver slowed the white van as he passed the town limits sign. The two men peered down the first side street. The van stopped. One man in a white coat jumped out. “He’s around here somewhere. Our jobs are on the line if we don’t nab him soon.”

“It’s your fault he escaped. If you hadn’t been so busy trying to make out with nurse Jane, he could never have made it out the back door unnoticed.”

My psychotherapist is as mad as a March Hare. She has this insane idea that I am a schizophrenic with multiple personalities. How simple can a person get. I actually have been doing research on her, watching her every move and keeping a detailed journal. I have this uncanny ability to sense a lunatic a mile away. I saw through her the first day.

She wanted me to mingle with people and above all, be especially polite. She said I have a tendency to be overbearing. But who believes what a crazy woman says.

I saw in the newspaper that there was a book signing at the Atlantic Hotel. The local author published a journal about her search for Noah’s Ark on the Navaho Reservation in Arizona. I smiled to myself. She was my kind of woman.

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