I sink into the oversized couch and look around the office. Emotions painted the walls and scarred stories Interiorized it. I studied it all. The crooked painting of a bouquet of flowers above Amy, the bags under her eyes, the purple painting on her toes but her nude finger nails, the cluttered sink in the corner, the layered lights on the ceiling. I stared, I listened but didn't comprehend. In one ear and out the other her advice went. $86 out of my moms pocket and into hers, for what? No matter how hard I tried, I took nothing in. I learned nothing, I believed not one word of encouragement. I noticed she was trying, I noticed I was lying.
