Free Dead Village by Gerry Tate

this get so many certificates as were nailed to the freekin wall anyhow? Dan wondered.
    â€˜This has all been a big mistake,’ he had wanted to say to the girl. ‘I’m not crazy. Why I’m just as sane as the next man. I only came here because of my damn wife and kids. Anyway, it’s only because of the dreams. It’s really no big deal.’
    He had just rehearsed this over in his mind, and was about to say something, when the young woman spoke first.
    â€œI’m Doctor Janet Smallwood, and please Mr Winters, relax,” she said, as Dan fiddled with his collar.
    Why this young woman can read my freekin mind, he thought.
    When Dan sat down he felt confused, because now he had two fears, a fear of heights and a new fear of shrinks.
    It was only about ten minutes into the session when Dan thought about how foolish he must be sounding to her. The baby faced woman showed no emotion, and her body language gave nothing away. She simply sat crossed legged; her short mini-skirt revealing her long well shaped legs, which was more of a distraction than anything else.
    A picture of the Eiffel tower hung on the far wall, and Dan wondered why it was there. He couldn’t help but stare up at it.
    Her voice was very soothing, much too soothing, he felt. And somehow it all sounded put on and false to him. This young girl didn’t really care about him, he believed. He was just one of many of the forgettable faces she had to deal with on a daily basis. It was the green stuff with the dollar signs printed on each side that appealed to this lady, he decided. He had always felt himself to be a great judge of character, and although he had only met this doctor for a few minutes, he had already branded her as one of life’s takers. His experience on his job had made him apprehensive and mistrustful of many people, and now she was included.
    He stared again at the Eiffel tower picture. A stabbing thought pattern in his head was trying to tell him something, biting and scratching and scattering across his brain as the young doctors voice sounded off in the background. The large sign outside reflecting in from a window, momentarily distracted him, and somehow the monstrous effigy of the pulsating brain frightened him. He looked away, back to the photo and stared at the top of the tower. Suddenly something clicked.
    A memory came flooding into his head, and the young girls seductive sounding voice trailed off as his thoughts moved into a holding pattern and took control.
    He remembered Beatrice, and the trip to Paris again. Almost every detail came flooding into his brain this time. They had been strolling along the Champs Elysees, looking for an appealing restaurant, when Beatrice walked off the sidewalk to avoid some dog crap, and onto the side of the road. It was just twenty minutes after their visit to the famous tower in Paris, and it was as she turned around to talk to him, it happened.
    Dan had pulled her back as the speeding motorcyclist almost crashed into her.
    The wing mirror had caught his elbow though, as he pulled her away. Dan had been gashed quite badly as the metal frame holding the mirror in place ripped off, tearing his jacket, and smashing as it hit the ground. The speeding bike wobbled a few times, but didn’t stop, and simply sped off around a corner.
    â€œBastard,” Dan had shouted after him.
    A small crowd had gathered around them and offered some friendly support to his wife, who was badly shaken up over it. Dan didn’t bother with surgery though, and simply shrugged it off; cleaning the small wound and applying some paper stitches from a little medical kit that he kept in his suitcase when they returned to their hotel room.
    â€œThose deep scrapes will scar you for life Dan,” Beatrice had informed him at the time.
    The doctor’s voice was higher now, asking him if he was listening to her.
    Dan sat upright in the comfortable seat and stared at the young girl for a