Three Line Tales

As I sit in the waiting room of my psychotherapist, this picture falls out of my wallet.

I wonder why I am at a psychotherapist’s office, as I stare at the creepy doll I held during my holiday photo shoot.

Perhaps my psychotherapist can look at the young face in this picture and help me find out why the innocence in that face disappeared.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.