Her floral fragrance takes me by expected surprise. The soft smell of petunias, lavender, roses, and daisies; a bouquet of sweet scents, creeps in and tickles the hairs of my nostrils as I inhale her aroma. It gets me high every time.

I concentrate on the magazine article in front of me. It is from one of the many clone entertainment magazines that clutter the office. Mark Ruffalo’s career started with You Can Count on Me. I knew that already, not from the 30th time I’ve read the sentence since Sunny’s quiet appearance, but from seeing the movie. I think about my distraction as I reread the sentence for the 31st time.

This is my routine every Monday at 5:37 on the dot. I wait for my turn with the shrink to discuss my neurotic insecurities that drive me crazy from the week before. I sit in the waiting area silently counting the seconds till that ambivalent time. 5:37 PM. Tic tock, tic tock, tic tock. I’ll pick up a magazine and flip through the pages, looking at the pictures and skimming the headlines, waiting. Tic tock. I go through four or five magazines before she arrives.

She arrives. Her wavy Sunny mane tied into pigtails. Her fair unmade skin glows with a dark and creamy complexion. Her dainty manicured hands moves with a smooth delicacy as she flips through the magazine. The index finger moves through the pages as she reads with her finger. Her small feet covered in the same worn black canvas Keds. Sunny is lightly decorated with a pair of small silver hoop earrings and a simple wristwatch. Her lips curl ever so slightly at the corner of her mouth as she goes through her pages. I wonder what makes her smile.

I watch her silently over the magazine that I gave up reading by now. I hold it only to hide my true actions. I stare hoping to get a glance into her soul, to make a connection.

We’ve been meeting like this for four months now. I know everything about her but I really know nothing. She’s soft spoken and quiet; even her cell phone doesn’t draw attention to itself. She never notices anyone around her, never looks up, say ‘Hi’, make noise. Sunny is very private. Sunny will talk with her sister about the plans for the weekend and get updates on her runt brother who is ever so six. She would make plans with her friend to go watch a movie or hang at the latest hot spot. Nothing outside of the life she made exists to her.

5:45 PM. The door to the office opens. The familiar sight of the plump waitress drying her beady wet eyes goes through the door followed by Dr. Coxley, an elegant woman of 55. You can tell that she was once pretty long ago. Coxley gives the waitress another assurance and sends her along her insecure ways until the next pep talk a week later.