In a day of my birthday Pierrot brought a basket of roses to our session. He looked better than me – full of energy, in his new bright yellow smoking with a green tie.
- Where is this costume from? - I asked, hesitating to accept the present. - And how did you manage to bring the flowers?
- Well, I left a few other baskets at reception, - he explained, sounding gladly. - And the costume was stolen, of course!
He gave out a maniacal laugh.
Later, secretary confirmed that they didn't see any flowers, or any patients walking in unusual clothes.
- You should think about finishing those sessions with him, - Terry warned me, when I told her about our unusual session. - It turns out that you are falling in love with your patient.
- This is ridiculous, - I denied. - He is just going through maniacal phase, which may result in a better health condition, and I try not to prevent it.
At the end of the day, when I was putting dark fresh roses in the vase, I noticed a small perfurmed paper between its petals. "Happy birthday, miss Vendetti" - the hand-writing in it was crossed with a badly drawn heart.