All Stories, General Fiction

Purgare by Phillip E. Temples

typewriter

“At the end, all that’s left of you are your possessions. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never been able to throw anything away…” –Nicole Krauss.

~

“Don, you have to help me. I’m desperate. Isn’t there some drug I can take, or a therapy?”

Don’s longtime friend, a successful accountant named Avraham “Avi” Goldstein, asked the question of Donald E. Cashdollar, M.D., Ph.D., an eminent physician and researcher at the Brookline Center for Neurological Research. Cashdollar put his hand to his chin as though to reinforce his thinking in response to the question. As he did so, Cashdollar shifted ever so slightly, sinking deeper into Goldstein’s living room easy chair. “Careful, Don—“

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