[Continuing the journal of Diane McMurphy, a patient in Bad Shepherd mental hospital, “The Asylum”]
The asylum administration has turned up the heat. No, not another example of their solicitous bullying, but real heat: the thermostat here in Ward H says so. Already I feel less withdrawn, less hostile, more sweaty, more apt to agree wholeheartedly with my therapist and put up with his “agreeing with me is just your defense mechanism, Diane” schtick, and make an effort not to bite him when he says that.
The heat in here is making me more active, like my fellow cold-blooded inmates. I’m bouncing off the walls, which fortunately are padded.
Tomorrow, solar flares are forecast. I’m expecting further warming of my fastidiously numbered and nomenclatured mental condition. If there aren’t any solar flares, I’ll start a fire.
<END>
THE PITCH
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See you tomorrow! Whatever happens here, you won’t be expecting it.
Memorable Fancies 
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