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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It was during the fifth visit almost halfway through The doctor asked, “What do you want? I am asking you.” This analyst then placed emphasis on the word “want”. The patient’s reply was what he searched for in his hunt. Trexler said, “I don’t know, I’m not able to answer” This question triggered a psychological transfer. When the doctor said, “Sure they do”, the patient replied: “Do you know what you want?” was the question Trexler tried. “Certainly” the psychiatrist said with fear to hide. The patient saw the scare when the doctor’s chair would slide. Pressing his perceived advantage, Trexler asked once more. The doctor backed a little from his inquisitor. He said, “I want a new wing on my small Westport house. I also want more money and spare time with my spouse. It would be nice with more time for things I want to do.” The patient then thought he should not be following through. Why should I pay fifty bucks an hour for it all? He then surmised not to lose possession of the ball. The patient then resumed his previous position. Trexler stopped himself from asking another question: “A new wing?” that’s hardly a modest requisition.” He felt amused with the temporary transition. When the session was over, the doctor would profess to his patient, that his own fears had caused the sickness. They departed each other with a smile and handshake. The patient guessed how much money psychiatrists make. It was now time for Mr. Trexler to be leaving. Waning daylight glossed the building in early evening. The doctor’s secretary was no longer around. The psychiatrist remained the last one to be found. Mr. Trexler thought about the doctor’s late working. Concluding he was attempting to get that new wing. “Poor bastard” was the patient Mr. Trexler’s new thought. This perception no longer left him feeling distraught. The ring of the question “What do you want?” in his ears, reminded him of the doctor’s desires and fears. Wants and desires of men are inexpressible. In most cases, they are also unattainable. They borrow from old songs, large deeds, love during one’s youth. However, they are false, formless, illusion, not truth. The former patient was humming “Moonlight Lullaby”. He bid the psychiatrist a permanent “Good-bye”. Trexler rode the Madison Avenue bus quite far, until he had thoughts that some would consider “bizarre”. Based on the short story "The Second Tree from the Corner" by the late EB White
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