I don’t remember writing this (no shock there), but I thought enough of it to keep it in my “story drafts” folder. I also have a folder called “lousy ideas,” and the files in it are cringe-worthy.

Anyway, I have no idea if I’ll do anything more with this, but I like the idea of a woman going to an alien therapist.

If I think about for too long, give it more than just a passing consideration, I start to question the whole system. And that’s not good for anybody, especially my family. I have to think about them first, you know. I can’t let anything happen to them.
It sounds like you’re under a lot of stress.
Everybody is. I’m not special. I just keep my head down and do what I’m told, report to my job, and continue accepting things the way they are.
Your father didn’t do that, did he? In fact, he rejected the way things were.
Yes…and he ended up disappearing. I try not to think about that, either. It’s been five years.
He could be alive.
No. He’s gone. I know that. Can we move on?
Of course we can, but we’re not going to get anywhere if we don’t discuss the more painful aspect of—
Everything is painful, Roger, but some things are pure agony, and I choose not to dwell on those.
You decided to come to me, knowing my specialty is Emotional Calibration. For the program to function successfully, you can’t avoid the ‘pure agony.’
You’re not human. Jesus, I should have gone with a person.
Just because I’m not human doesn’t mean I can’t help, Audrey. In fact, I’ve helped many people, some of whom are your friends.
(sighing) I know.
And you decided to call me Roger.
Well, it’s certainly easier than your real name, which I’m sure I couldn’t even pronounce.
I could teach you, if you’d like.
No. That’s okay.
All right. So, Audrey, if we’re not going to talk about your father, would you like to discuss your job? Or perhaps your standing in the community? I understand you received a recognition last week.
Oh, that.