"To be honest, I can see that you have a complex, unique and, needless to say, unusual personality. There are multiple facets to you that make me think you are a dynamic and interesting person. Although it can be a challenge to understand your thoughts and emotions, I don't I see nothing inherently negative about you. I suppose your environment and experiences have influenced your development. Flamboyance, eloquence... but who couldn't use a little of them... *Silence in the room*
"It seems to me that we have made significant progress in this session. There are still areas where I identify that there is a need to open up, but I am confident that, with time and subsequent visits, we will see steady improvement. You can go home, . Thanks for another productive session. I'll look forward to your next visit... and it's not enough to be repetitive like a failing record, but don't forget that I'm here to help you." William smiles and hands him the ticket. "Don't worry, boy. I'm sure you'll continue to progress, after all you need it." With a hand placed on his shoulder, showing confidence, now save yourself from my sight, you're free.
After Ernest leaves the office, William showing a clear relief by closing the door, makes a "fake" smile disappear, his work tool is finally put aside. He begins to enjoy his one minutes of time before the 7th visit of the day; as if it were a necessary evil. He lights a cigarette with the help of the lighter that was hidden on the left side of his robe, all this having in mind.. a single answer for such an immoral patient: "What a freak...". Ernest feels the office door close. Understanding clearly that it was time to leave the place, he did not hear anything, or pretended not to have heard the discrediting of his psychologist. With a sigh, feeling a mixture of confusion and anxiety. As he walks slowly towards the exit; he takes the bill and William's prescription out of his pocket, and checks them, as the only thing that can distract him. The torrential rain outside the building seems to reflect his mood, a happy one, because how a beautiful coincidence could affect a beautiful day...The bill contains a series of large numbers, accompanied by the mention "Amount to be paid" clearly for the time spent in the room. Money is not a problem. What catches his attention is the writing on the professional's note: a permit for an antidepressant. Upon reaching the corridor, Ernest puts the papers in the right pocket of his suit… and looks at his watch. It is late. Slow steps begin to turn into quick transitions caused by a desperate race towards the exit door; passing in front of a row of people sitting on benches placed on the other side of the wall. Each one, waiting for his turn. The urgency on his face is palpable.Stepping out into the rain, Ernest heads to his car, parked on the street. The remote parking spot for the car is near a row of parking meters. He inserts a coin. And gets in the car. He inserts the key. However, when he tries to start it, it doesn't respond. After several attempts, frustration builds up inside him. He tries to move it several times, but nothing happens. In a fit of rage, he hits the steering wheel with his fist. Finally, he takes off his jacket, leaving him only in his white shirt soaked by the drops of an afternoon of fury. The result of his decision to go out into the street so he can move the car. Acting impulsively, he pushes the car and kicks it hard. About 3 or 5 times until it finally shows signs of life. It is one of those rare occasions when he wishes something would remain in its initial state. He holds his breath and then gasps with exhaustion. Those coarse hairs that were still standing on end recompose themselves to their usual form. Next to him, a soft and rough wind… caused by the strong friction of his right hand, using it as if it were a comb; when he finally hears the sound of the engine… he looks at his hands. He lowers his gaze before entering the vehicle, indirectly checking every part of his body… or rather his clothes. He feels a slight pain in his little finger, but he does not give it importance. He opens the door of the vehicle again. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he drives the car fiercely, at high speed towards the direction in which the curve gives a new face to the block… with a slightly exposed smile on his face.
After advancing to the road.
....
Officer: "Wissen Sie, warum ich Sie angehalten habe, Herr?"
("Do you know why I stopped you, sir?")
Ernest: "Entschuldigung, Herr Beamter. Es ist so, dass mein Deutsch nicht kissers gut ist...
(Sorry, officer. Suffice it to say, my German is not very good.)
Ernest : "如果您愿意,我很乐意用完美的中文与您和您的同伴聊天."
("If you prefer, I'd be happy to chat with you and your companion, in perfect Chinese.")
Ernest : Aunque, yo prefiero el español
(Although, I prefer Spanish)
"Amidst protracted sobs, with thanks from the police, laughter to be clear; I felt a strong jolt, with a fit of rage; they threw me off the highway and ordered me to get out of the vehicle... On my knees, and face down...
For some reason, I can't help but think for a moment that I've been mistaken for a Jew.
Ernest : ani yechul lidber ivrit lekal mikra
(I speak fluent Hebrew, if that helps.)
I felt a strong blow, a fist piercing my stomach...
Berlin has an overwhelming charm, among tourists."