I took the elevator up to the 26th floor. It was cold, the steel walls were a silvery-black wash. After each floor the elevator clunked. The psychiatrist's name was Grik D'rak'mar. The waiting room was packed with nut jobs. One guy of Sebiestor blood was reading a digital newspaper but holding it upside-down, he had a wonky eye. Most everyone else, men and women, sat silently waiting for their call. They didn't even appear to be breathing. The room had a heavy and dark feel. I signed in and took my seat. A guy next to me, grey of face with pink hair and rags for clothes was wearing one green and one black shoe.

'Heya, bud,' he whispered in close.

'Yeah,' I responded.

'Spare some ISK my man?' he asked.

'No,' I told him firmly, 'sorry, not today.'

'Tomorrow maybe?' he went on.

'Maybe', I said.

'But, but, maybe I won't be able to find you tomorrow,' he complained, talking to himself as he looked blankly at the opposite wall.

I hope not, I thought.

We waited and waited. All of us. Didn't the shrink know that waiting was one of the things that could send a man crazy? People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. They waited in line for ISK. When they had no ISK they waited in longer lines to get ISK. You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. You wait for a kill, and then you wait for the killmail report to load up on your neocom. You waited to eat and then you waited 'til you was hungry so you could eat again. You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and deep down you wondered if you were one.

I must have waited for so long that I fell asleep. I stood up and left the empty office. I'm not crazy I thought to myself as the elevator doors slid open.



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