He had chosen the sofa. It seemed the most comfortable piece in the room but he didn't lounge in it or lie. Simply he made his back very straight and sat on the edge of the cushion with the expression on his face that rendered a now what response.
Folding his hands in his lap his eyes drifted about the room to the various plaques and degrees, framed on the doctor's wall. She must be very important to have so many, he thought to himself as he chewed along the outer part of his lip.
On the phone he had been perfectly comfortable telling her most things. quite open really but in person he was more withdrawn, nervous and unable to concentrate or sit still. "Do you really think you can help me?" He asked, knowing that a clear diagnosis hadn't even been made.