I don't jump right back into the story the next time I see Dr. Milton. He's already leaning forward over his desk, ready for more, but there's a part of me that enjoys prolonging the suspense and a part of me that wants to talk about something else for a bit. We exchange pleasantries, the usual 'how are you' and 'how are you feeling', which prompt the responses 'good' and 'meh'. Four window panes reflect like swatches of sunlight across his glasses, and I'm distracted for a moment by the way the lens warps their shapes. Then it occurs to me that I'm staring, and that staring is rude, so I look back down at my feet instead.