The therapist.

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C

Charles Yager

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Charles looked up at you. His hazel eyes blank and still,while his black hair lazily pushed back by his right hand.
His Sunday church shoes that rocked back and forth with fear. His green knitted sweater that draped over his beige colored pants.
Charles looked at you still,waiting for the so called therapist to say something relevant or life changing.
"Is this going to be a repent your sins thing?" The words trickled out of his baby pink lips. It was a Christian church with programs after all.
 
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