A Room of Their Own by Rakefet Yarden (best summer reads of all time .TXT) 📕

I felt uncomfortable. My appeasing side felt guilty. It’s not customary to cancel an appointment on the same day, but on the other hand we had scheduled in a rush because she had found free time in her diary, so it’s not like she’d canceled other things for my sake.

While trying to console myself with thoughts and explanations, the phone rang. An unknown number flickered on the screen. I deliberated whether or not to answer it, but I did.

“Dani?” I heard a woman’s voice. “Good morning. I just got your message. How are you?”

I was shocked. It was her. How annoying! How am I? You don’t even know me. “Fine,” I answered.

“I got your message and I thought it best if we spoke for a bit. Tell me why you don’t want to come.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was embarrassed and confused. I hadn’t expected that phone call. “Fine. Never mind. I’ll come,” I heard myself saying.

“Okay. Still, is there anything worrying you that you’d like to tell me before you come?” she asked cautiously.

“No. Doesn’t matter. See you soon. Bye.” I hung up.

I got scared. She had made an effort for me. Without even knowing me.

It was clear to me that I had to go, but on the other hand I was even more worried and more agitated. What is she doing calling me at seven in the morning! And anyway, why is she calling me at all? How annoying.

I’m familiar with the breed of therapists who make an effort. They’re the most stressing. I had that kind of therapist once, and every time I met with her I’d feel as though I had to provide the goods for her. Something supposedly meaningful, to justify the great efforts she had seemed to invest in me. I eventually left her.

That’s what’ll happen this time, too, I thought to myself, and felt even more stupid for walking into something that’s predestined to fail. I thought about all the bus rides and all the hours Miko would be on his own − all for the sake of something pointless.

I dressed quickly without putting too much thought into it. I put on my dark Australian shoes, just in case. Comfortable shoes, suitable for any season and any circumstances that might arise.

Miko was already standing by the door wagging his tail. “We’ll just go for a short walk, buddy. You can’t go to the meeting with me, but I’ll come back home quickly. I promise.”

We walked on the narrow sidewalk along our street’s row of attached buildings. Miko sniffed for clues of canine existence, and I leafed through my thoughts. Troubling thoughts about therapy, about life, about me. Any thought that bothered me too much was put aside for the next page. It felt like a challenging mission, and it was depressing to have to cope with it so early in the morning. I knew that I didn’t want to go see that therapist. That knowledge permeated all the pages of my thoughts.

Suddenly I had an idea, one that began as a whim and then slowly became a reality that I could grab on to. I turned back and pulled Miko, who didn’t understand why we were suddenly revisiting all of the scents he had already picked up. “Change of plans, buddy.”

I quickly went up to my apartment, grabbed my backpack, and we went back out together, heading towards the new therapist’s clinic.

First Meeting

“Rotem Golan”

That’s the name written on the sign at the entrance to the clinic. I’d arrived four minutes before nine o’clock, our appointment time. I went back out to the sidewalk with Miko and sat down on the curb. Miko sat next to me and inhaled millions of filthy, yet insightful molecules. In this kind of situation, you’re better off being a bit late than arriving when the person you’re coming to meet isn’t ready for you yet. So we waited for six more minutes before I got back up and knocked on the front door. Miko sniffed the doorway, as though asking to pre-familiarize himself with the scents inside. A glint of teasing shifted within me. I waited to see the look on the acclaimed therapist’s face at the sight of the big weird-looking

dog with the blue eye. And, in general, a dog at the entrance to her clinic.

“Hi, Dani.” A tall woman opened the door and indicated with her eyes for me to come in while shifting her gaze to Miko and smiling. I didn’t know whether to pause on that look and ask for permission, or perhaps apologize. I’d already prepared myself for the explanation I’d have to give, or at least for the victorious feeling at the sight of the new therapist’s puzzled look when faced with Miko.

So it turns out that the new therapist likes dogs, even strange dogs like Miko. Or perhaps she herself isn’t quite sure of what to do so she’s choosing to ignore it. This whole thing of hers with Miko wasn’t clear to me, and I felt like I’d missed something. As though I hadn’t at all aimed in the right direction to irritate her.

She’s not young at all. Smooth chestnut hair flowing a little past the shoulders, big green eyes with a piercing stare. She’s probably in her forties − not exactly an old granny.

Rotem indicated with her eyes for me to take a seat, but I remained standing. I know this “thing” of therapists, when they have to determine precisely where the client’s place is and where theirs is, and from that moment on the places are clearly set. How patronizing. I didn’t want to sit. I preferred to keep standing. I hadn’t even decided whether or not I’d stay. Miko, however, had already found himself a spot on the round rug in the center of the room - as though it were his usual rug. And I thought to myself, “Traitor! Stay close to me. Or at least don’t be