by Joanna Warwick
Another approach to helping people find their way in life is through therapeutic short stories. I find people respond well to metaphor and stories, as it allows them to feel like they have worked some thing out instead of being told, which can be quite disempowering, whereas a story can create thoughts in the subconscious, leading to personal insights. – Joanna
Bob sat in his car waiting for the screen to de-thaw.
He promised himself; this would be the last winter he’d put up with his clapped out old Honda.
Things would have to get better soon; New Year, new beginnings.
His fingers crossed.
This however was not one of those better days.
It was a cold January morning and the day had already started with an argument with Janey, over a spatula.
He wasn’t stupid, he knew the argument wasn’t really about who was to blame for losing the spatula, but it seemed a hell of a lot easier arguing about that than talking about what was really going on.
It had felt to him like their relationship had been under a heavy black cloud for months now with little respite from the pressure.
They would have to talk soon; avoidance seemed to no longer hack it. Nothing had changed, but their misery.
Sex would be the final straw, he thought. He laughed to himself painfully, why was he willing for it to get to the point of no sex, before speaking?
Scared! He knew it. He was scared.
He didn’t want his marriage to be over and he feared that would be the outcome if they talked about what was going on.
He knew he still loved Janey, but they had become so distant. How could they ever bridge the divide?
Then he thought for a moment. She had not left and she didn’t seem to be going anywhere, maybe, just maybe she didn’t want to.
The thought gave him hope.
The windscreen had finally started to clear and he decided he could just about see enough to start the car and drive.
Sincerely, Sarah for