Sarah/April Preston had a flair for the dramatic. She swept into the room wearing a large black cape, her gray hair tied back in a rust colored ribbon, and plopped herself down on the sofa.
Hal dragged a chair over, and brought her file with him, and a small tape recorder he now used almost exclusively in lieu of note taking. He set the recorder down on the coffee table between them. Ms. Lansing had proved quite adept at transcribing the sessions, and Hal was thrilled he could sit back and give his patients more fully his attention—or in the case of his mind wandering as often happened—he’d not miss anything in the process. Either way it was a win-win. He turned the recorder on.
They sat quietly as he waited for her to begin.
“It was a dream, I think,” she said.
“Aren’t you sure?”
“Ye
