“How long have you been suffering with this?” The psychiatrist was the third one Joseph had seen that month. The first had made him angry, a warm knot in the pit of his stomach that would not go away until they were driving away. The second had been calm, almost serene. Joseph thought how he never had met someone who was actually serene before. She had referred them to this doctor, a middle aged woman with bifocals and long, curly brown hair barely contained by pony-tail holder. They were sitting in opposite corners of the office and sometimes had to raise their voices a bit to be heard at the other end of the room. She said the distance might make him feel more comfortable.
“Well it’s not like I’m really suffering,” Joe looked at the painting on the wall and wished it was of something more than geometric shapes, something he could concentrate on. “I just wish I knew what was happening.”
“And how would you describe what’s happening?”
“When I’m around a bunch of people I feel really weird, like I’m going through a whole bunch of emotions and I can’t focus on anything.” He said, too fast, no emphasis, she would be able to tell he had rehearsed it. “If it’s only one or a few people it’s not so bad, but I think I’m feeling what they’re feeling, if that’s a thing?”
“It is.” Joe stopped tracing triangles with his eyes and looked at her, “It’s fairly common in people who are highly conductive, do you know what that means?” Joe shook his head.
“Conductive people channel magic through their bodies naturally, most don’t notice if they don’t perform spells, but others experience things like what’s happening to you.”
“So I’m a witch?”