When That Spring Comes

You carefully adjust the lighting, temperature and even the fragrance in the consulting room every day, just to make him say "I killed someone" in the most comfortable state. During the last consultation, he opened the window and said, "It's dawn." The sound of sirens behind him was like some kind of tacit harmony. In the deepest part of the filing cabinet, under the forged diagnosis report, lies the blood-stained cufflinks he left in front of your door on the day of the crime. Spring is here. Intention: The storm is coming