Lives of the Circus Animals

Chapter One

"You want strangers to love you?"

There was another long pause. "No," he said. "I just don't want them to hate me."

"And who do you think hates you, Kenneth?"

"Oh, everyone."

She laughed, much to his surprise. Her laughter was thin and professional, but not unfriendly.

"I'm joking, of course. Most people don't know me from the man in the moon. And it's not real hate. Not really. Even from people who do know me. It's fun hate. Faux hate. I'm the man-they-love-to-hate." He sighed. "Oh, all right. Yes. It does get to me. Sometimes."

"Of course," said Dr. Chin. "We'd all rather be loved."

She sat in an armchair, a mild, round-faced woman in a ruffled blouse, under a Georgia O'Keeffe painting of a skull in a desert.

Kenneth Prager sat on the sofa -- the far end of the sofa -- tall and lean in a charcoal gray suit. This was his first time in therapy, his second session. Forty-four years old, he had managed to avoid this rite of passage until now. He was not enjoying it. Not only did Chin expect him to do most of the talking, but she also refused to let him have the last word. His livelihood was built on having the last word.

He took a deep breath, smiled, and sai ... read full excerpt from Lives of the Circus Animals ebook