One (Sarah Crossan)

Tippi Talks

We go next door

into Dr Netherhall’s office

where it is my turn to wear the headphones

and Tippi’s turn to tell all.

Which

I think

she actually does.

She talks quickly,

her expression serious,

her voice

sometimes loud enough for me to catch

a stray

word

or two.

I turn the music up,

force it to swallow the sound of her

and then I watch

as

she

crosses her foot over mine,

uncrosses it,

pushes her hair out of her face,

coughs,

bites her lips,

wriggles in our seat,

scratches her forearm,

rubs her nose,

stares at the ceiling,

stares at the door,

all the time

talking

until

finally she taps my knee

and mouths the word

‘Done.’