“Look, I’m telling you, just like I told the judge, it wasn’t me! Do I look like a homicidal maniac to you?”

The therapist sighed. “Just tell me… Tell me what you remember.”

“Well, it was dark outside. I had just finished doing the laundry when I heard a scream, and that was it! I got tried and found guilty and now I’m here.”

“You seem to be uncharacteristically calm about it.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, the past is the past.” The man shrugged.

The therapist sighed. He suddenly looked very, very tired. “Look, can I be straight with you? I come talk to you every week, but you don’t remember it.”

“What do you mean? I don’t recall ever meeting you before, today was our first meeting.”

The therapist paused. “You murdered your wife three summers ago, you have all the signs of someone who’s suppressed their memory. In fact, we have this conversation every week.”

“That’s crazy! You’re crazy! I never want to see you here again!”

The therapist only sighed as he walked out. He could only hope that his father would remember him someday.