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Tyto Alba

Barn Owl

By Rory WestermanPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
2

“What ails you?” the therapist asked, pen in hand, ready to take notes.

“I can’t sleep,” the patient sighed, “No matter what I try, no matter what I do...”

“And this happens only at night?” the therapist enquired further.

“Yeh..”, the patient answered, “Although, sometimes I go without sleep for 24 hours, if not longer,” he added.

“And what do you do during these times that you are awake?” the therapist continued his questioning, all the while writing down notes and barely looking up.

“I eat,” the patient replied somewhat exhausted.

The therapist looked up briefly. “Anything specific?” he asked as he looked back down at his notes.

“I have been into some weird shit lately...” the patient replied with a slight chuckle while staring down at the floor.

“Like what?” the therapist asked curiously and this time looked straight up at his patient.

The patient appeared to be thinking before he asked, “You know how they eat, like guinea pigs in Peru?”

“You mean ‘Cuy’?” the therapist answered while staring at his patient.

“Yes!” the patient exclaimed looking up and pointing his finger at the therapist, “That's it! That does it for me lately and try finding that on UberEATS.” he continued with a chuckle returning his gaze to the floor.

The therapist took his time taking this down before he asked, “You mentioned how you sometimes can’t sleep for 24 hours straight?”

“That is due to the Rooks.” the patient replied.

“The Rooks?” the therapist asked.

“My neighbours,” the patient answered nodding his head, “they are awfully loud and they look like the type of people who enjoy a good ‘mobbing’. So I let them be.” he continued, visibly annoyed about the topic.

“Have you tried reporting them to the authorities?” the therapist asked.

“What’s the use... they are all a bunch of ‘magpies’ anyway,” the patient responded, gesturing the idea away with his hand, “All talk, no action.” he concluded.

“It wouldn’t hurt.” the therapist said as he returned to his notes.

The patient looked up, somewhat agitated, his right leg starting to shake. “I don’t see how that would fix my issue!” he said loudly.

The therapist looked back up and saw the patient staring at him. He put down his pen and uncrossed his legs, leaned forward as his fingertips met in front of his face and said reassuringly. “I am just trying to get to the root of the problem.”

The patient stood up frustrated. “I can’t sleep at night!” he exclaimed holding his hands to his head, “that is the root of my problem!”

A brief silence filled the room as the therapist allowed the patient to calm down.

With his hands now on his hips the patient let out a sigh and sat back down, leaning back into his seat. “I am just under so much stress,” he sighed, “my neck hurts, as if someone turned it 270 degrees. Oh and did I tell you that I make involuntary noises while I am wide awake at night?” he continued and looked back up to the therapist.

The therapist looked back at him and asked. “What kind of noises?”

The patient stared at the therapist for a bit with his mouth slightly opened seemingly too embarrassed to answer the question. “You will think I am crazy,” he finally answered.

“No judgement here,” the therapist replied with a reassuring smile.

The patient squirmed around in his seat, visibly uncomfortable when he finally said, “I hoot...”

The therapist did not respond immediately as he went over his notes. He glanced at his watch and noticed that the session was almost over. “Well, Mr. Alba...” he said.

“Call me Tyto,” the patient interrupted, “Mr. Alba is my father.”

“Well then, Tyto,” the therapist continued. “It is safe to say that you suffer from insomnia. Which would explain your food cravings and the stress that you have been under.”

“What about the ‘hooting’?” the patient asked slightly worried.

“That could be stress related as well or a form ‘parasomnia’,” the therapist deduced, “either way I am going to prescribe you some sleeping pills for a few days and we can see how things are in our session next week.”

“Thanks,” the patient said as he took the prescription note from the therapist.

“See you next week Mr. Alb.... Tyto,” the therapist said as he led his patient out.

therapy
2

About the Creator

Rory Westerman

I love to write and incorporate my life experiences and those around me into works of fiction.

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