Box of Tissues

The first thing she saw when she entered the room was a box of tissues on the small coffee table, in between the two low chairs.  How presumptuous of her to do that.  As if they would be needed, and nothing else.

Louise looked around the room, taking in as many details as possible.  The books about personal development along with 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.' Unexpected in a room for counselling she thought.  There were children's drawings blue-tacked to the wall.  Did the counsellor have children, or were they nieces and nephews.  

Gentle, soothing music was playing on a stereo and somewhere, she couldn't see where, there was a scented candle burning.  

They sat down.  Louise had to recap her week.  Talk about how she had progressed with her goals.  It felt one-sided.  Telling the counsellor all of these intimate details but knowing nothing about her.  Louise looked for clues about the woman sitting across from her, staring hard into her eyes: She was well dressed but not in an old-fashioned way.  Had dark brown eyes which were very intense when they bored through her.  No wedding ring.  Slim and exuding a calming presence.  She suited her job.

Louise broached the harder subjects, it had been a hard week.  The counsellor asked questions she didn't like but she listened and understood everything that was being discussed.  Louise felt a well of emotion over-run her.  She desperately didn't want to cry or use those tissues.  She took a deep breath and swallowed as deeply as she could.

The time went quickly after that.  Goals for next week were discussed.  

'No tissues were needed,' thought Louise. ' I win,' as she wandered back out into the real world.