Mum and dad didn’t visit, didn’t really matter.
I watched television in a big room with other people.
The valium hadn’t yet fully worn off, and that combined with the tablets they were giving me, made me feel distant from what was going on around me, like I was dreaming, it was a nice feeling, I felt relaxed and safe, like I’d never felt before.

In the morning, the door opened and a doctor came in.
„Morning! My name is Dr. Thought….and you are Morris, and you are sick, and I am sick too, but in a different way…Let’s talk about your sickness, little boy….!“ he said, at the same time strutting over to the window and ripping it open.

He took a deep breath, and then turned and looked at Morris. He took a blue pencil out of his upper left breast pocket and began tapping his lips lips with it.

“A few hundred years ago they would have burnt you, and fifty years ago they would have locked you up and thrown away the key….but, lucky as you seem to be, you are here today and not in those dark forgone times, and you you have me, Dr. Thought to listen to you and heal your very soul!“

Dr. Thought was walking around the room, rejoicing in his excellence.

Suddenly he stopped, turned, and, doing his best to look concerned, he looked at Morris and said with a voice full of pity:

„Where does it hurt Morris?“

„Nothing hurts,“ I replied, sitting up and folding my arms.

„Mmmm, nothing hurts, fine, then, what-is-the-problem, Morris?“

Dr. Thought tried his piercing eye look.

„They bought me here in the ambulance, I was up at the slaughterhouse…“ I said.

He starting pacing the room again and then spun round dramatically and stared at Morris.

„The slaughterhouse! The slau-ght-er-house. Int-er-est-ing…and what were you doing at the slau-ghter-house!“
„Nothing.“ I said.
”Nothing, nothing. You were doing nothing, up at the slau-ght-er-house…mmmm.“

He turned and walked to the window.

“Well Morris, if, as you say, you were doing nothing, then why are you here in my hospital?“ He turned and raised his right eyebrow and stopped tapping the pencil on his lips for a short moment.

“Because of the letter I think“ Morris said.

„The letter. Yes. The letter…I have seen the letter, and I have read the letter, and I have thought about the letter. And this letter,“ he said, pacing the room again now, „was born of your fair hand Morris?“

He stopped and stared again.
“Well yes, I wrote it.“ I said.
He had walked over to the bed and was staring at Morris, quite close to his face and said quietly:
“I have only ever read one such similar letter, years ago, it was written by a madman! A madman Morris, a mad-man from a small Danish coastal village, do you understand???“

Then, after letting his words take effect, he started his pacing and pencil tapping again.
“Yes. You mean I must be mad too.“ I said.
“Mad….now did I say you are mad?“

Suddenly he ran towards the door, ripped it open stuck out his head and shouted:
“Nurse, nurse, burn him at the stake, burn him at the stake, rip out his heart and burn him at the stake!“

He closed the door again, and then said quietly, looking down at Morris and smiling:
“Don’t worry, just one of my little jokes, ha, just a little fun to lighten up this dismal day we are having.“

He started his pacing again, „Morris, do you still want to die, or was that just….a whim?“

„If I always felt like this, I wouldn’t want to die…“ I answered.

“Mmm, and how are you feeling?“ Dr. Thought said looking thoughtfully at Morris.

“I, I feel well and happy and safe and relaxed…“ Morris said.

„Mm, probably the tablets, I take them too, wonderful stuff, absolutely wonderful!“ Dr. thought said, lost in some kind of other thoughts of his own.

“You take the tablets too?“ I asked.

„Of course! We are all ill in our own little ways Morris, you just happen to have been caught being ill, and I haven’t – ha!“

The pencil tapping rhythm seem to get faster, Dr. Thought stopped pacing and looked down at the floor.
“What are we going to do with you Morris?“ he said, looking up, „What are we going to do?“

„Don’t know.“ I said.

„You need what we call therapy. Has no effect of course,„ the doctor said, „no effect whatsoever, but I’ll feel a bit better knowing your doing some of this therapy stuff, what do you think Morris?“

„What do I have to do?“ I asked.
„Do? Good question, good question….let me sit down and think…“

He sat down on the small chair next to the table. Due to the shape of the room, I could only see his feet from the bed, the cupboard was in the way.
He began thinking, I didn’t disturb him, it seemed like he was deep inside himself.
I slept a bit, when I awoke, Dr. Thought was still there, thinking.