The Visionary

(From "The Visionary")

 

“So, Mr Murphy, you say you’ve had these visions on several occasions.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Following Kiera’s advice, I’d agreed to contact the psychic agency, and now two weeks later, I found myself being assessed in an untidy looking room at the Centre for the Study of Extraordinary Events, or CSEE, as it was now better known.

 

The room I’d been placed in seemed an unlikely representation for clinical excellence. It held a clutter of scientific equipment, odd artefacts, and yellowing reports. There was an old stuffed armchair in one corner, and an oddly shaped lamp which immediately made me think of Kiera and her taste for  vintage items. The smell of musty roses was everywhere.

 

“How often, roughly, have you had them?”

 

I could see that the scientist or psychiatrist or whatever she was, was simply paying me lip service. “Um, well it started about three months ago. I was—” 

 

“—How often, roughly?” She clearly wanted me to get to the point, which made me feel that they weren’t going to take me seriously at all.

 

My hackles rose. “If you have someone else to see  . . .”

 

She caught herself and tried to make amends. “I’m sorry, Mr Murphy. It’s just that we’re on a very tight schedule today.”

 

But despite the apology, I could still hear the impatience in her tone. I could feel my pressure rising so I just jumped right in. “I’ve been getting them for more regularly. Every ten minutes or so. Not just when I’m dreaming.”

 

“Do you think that this is something you might have confused with other things already happening somewhere?”

 

“No, Doctor. I’ve never even heard of half these places.”