Molly and the Shrink With a Wart 1976.

The shrink had a small wart on the end of his nose, which took most of your attention away from his talking, and you wondered if he worried about it; you knew that you would if you had such a wart. Your dead boyfriend Jamie wandered the room not looking at you, but looking past you, as if looking at you would somehow pain him more than being dead. The shrink never saw him so was not bothered, and nor was you nor was your other self, who had suffocated him that time, and her mad strength overwhelmed him. Two nurses were also in the room with you, after you had attacked two previous shrinks, the last one, you broke his nose, so they were there as his bodyguards, rather than nurses for you. But your other self said nothing, and seemed asleep. The shrink didn’t mention your murders, but spoke in the present tense. How is the medication affecting you? he said it calmly, softly spoken, all the time watching you, and the two nurses stood poised, ready to pounce if you so much as moved against him. Did your mother mind you having that wart? you said. He was caught off guard, and you could see in his eyes that she might have done or maybe it grew later and she wasn’t around, or couldn’t give a monkey’s arse. I am here to talk about you, he said calmly, pushing your question away or kicking it into the long grass, maybe to show he didn’t give an arse. The rest of the session was the usual questions and no answers routine, because your other self woke up and said: Say nothing to him; so you said nothing more, but hearing dream-like water rushing up a far away shore.