Shrink, Shrank, Shrunk
December, 1984
"What Does Your shrink say?" Rita asked, carefully stubbing out her cigarette."She doesn't know, either," I said. "Anyway, you know how they are; getting an opinion out of those bastards is like pulling teeth. I hate her, anyway.""God, I know what you mean," she said, lighting up again. "I went to mine yesterday and I kept thinking, What does she know? It's August; she's pale, she's tired. Then I looked around and thought, Her color sense isn't that g...
