The Session

Beneath his spectacles, Heinz had the bluest eyes, glass blue, as blue as the white of an egg. It was our usual Monday routine. Heinz was sitting in his office, sipping his civet poo. The door was double locked, as per.
Heinz held the china cup delicately in front of his nostrils, sniffed the pungent aroma, took an expensive sip of caffeine, and then placed cup and saucer back on the occasional table next to his chair. He sat back in the leather recliner, crossed his fingers, and stared at me above the pyramid shape of his hands – I could smell his eau-de-cologne. Bergamot and some other shit.
‘Tell me again the reason why.’ Heinz said, clicking his Montblanc pen and flipping open his pad.
‘Because she was a spoiled bitch.’
‘How was she spoiled?’ Heinz asked.
‘Rotted, spoiled, gone off, rancid.’ I said. ‘Ruined by her boss. I ought to have chopped his nuts off while I was at it!’
‘You mean they were lovers?’
‘No, we were lovers, he was just fucking her.’
Heinz scratched in his pad.
‘They said I would wind up someone’s bitch in here.’  I told him. ‘But not so far. Why do you think that is Heinz?’
Heinz’s lips quivered. ‘Why do you think that is, Dick?’
‘I don’t know, Heinz. Isn’t that why they employ a pen-pusher like you? To work it out?’
‘Prison has its advantages of course,’ Heinz said, stroking his goatee. ‘Zero rent, breakfast, dinner and tea, free psychiatric care.’
I looked at Heinz – I said, ‘I don’t quite get the logic of that last bit, psychiatric care. Isn’t that an oxymoron?’
Heinz wasn’t that easily distracted. ‘She hurt your pride, Dick, didn’t she?’
A tear left my eye. I rubbed it away. ‘Nope.’
Heinz shifted position in the chair. The leather creaked. ‘Poor Dick, care to talk about it?’
‘I told you before, I got home one night and found her sending secret messages to her boss, sticking likes all over his Facebook page.’
‘And how did that make you feel?’
‘Like a twat. She swore blind she was innocent, told me he was gay …’
Heinz laid his pen and pad on the table next to the coffee cup and unzipped his fly.
‘So, then what did you say when you discovered her wickedness?’
‘I told her, I said, I’ll get you Princess, and your little laptop too!
Heinz moaned. He slipped a hand inside his trousers. ‘Then what happened?’
‘I ran into the kitchen for the bread knife.’
Heinz took a sharp intake of breath. ‘And then?’
‘Yeah, lucky for her the pizza guy came knocking, Asian bloke. When I opened the door, she legged it with her laptop. I never saw her again. If it weren’t for that fake-fag, we’d still be together, even if I am banged up in here.’
Heinz blew a gasket. ‘No no no, you fool! She came back! She came back! Remember?!
I recalled the routine. ‘Oh yeah, that’s right, that’s what the bitch did Heinz, she came back and got on her knees in front of me, begging for mercy.’
Heinz made a funny noise at the back of his throat. ‘And..?’
‘I let her off the hook.’
Heinz smirked. ‘I somehow doubt it. You know why?’
‘Why?’ I asked, stifling a yawn.
Heinz’s voice grew thick. ‘Because you stabbed her Dick, you stabbed her!’
‘Oh yeah, that’s right, I stuck it in, just under the ribcage. There was blood everywhere.’
‘Even on the rug?’
‘Fuck yeah. Dripping like a hosepipe she was.’
Heinz tugged away with fury. He had left a note on the table. A twenty this time. I snatched it up, folded it, and tucked it away in my jeans. Then I waited.
Ten minutes later I had my script. Lithium, three thousand megs. Oh happy days!
Heinz glanced at his watch.
‘Okay, session over. Return to your cell.’

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