Mind-A suspense novel.

by Danny E. Allen

  Chapter Sixteen

  He remembered clinical(s) for forensic-case-lawyers, learning a new-definition in a case. An unique and societal-revealing that change their idea of the world. It was a national-case study. He-evolved, as they evolved in his-teaching. He-thought he’d speak with an attorney and attest the case after all he wasn’t a lawyer. Before all this, he needed to understand the case. After much professional, brew ha-ha with the very astute Dr. P.O., he being one of his favorites, was given full-access to the case. Dutiful, dependable and definitive, P. O. wanted to know why and how he wanted to take on the case. He had to be stoic and aloft which impressed him. But the final hurdle came with the assistant head-CEO. There had to be no impropriety, he needed to ‘thread the needle’. Plausible, but pernicious to the vision-of a full-focus...

  He-went personally to the assistant, wanting to impress a ‘cross-code’ hospital provision. He came through with flying-colors. Statutes and stipulations, had to be adhered-to; ‘Okay, Peter, this is your ‘baby’’... ...’Don’t let this case affect your-duty because of your staff, in as much as good; make sure your there’... He knew how to head legal-aspects of his job. From workload to paperwork, what will be the extenuative-issues. He wanted to meet with him as soon as he could. It would, be the next day. Promise, promotions and mental-promiscuity had taken affect, so he-realized this would test his deepest-mettle. And perhaps settle an old-score. This, could be a ‘cote de gras’, of personal-terms.

  He wanted-to go in with a bit of professional-decorum. Yet he-realized his subject-both offered and denied the terms of his case. He-could only hope that the best-of him and his friend’s brother might resolve what is a very serious-case. Super-imposed was a sad-part for which his impetuous competence had failed, was it worth bringing ‘skeletons’ out of the closet; which only he knew? He knew his job well, and that would be the ‘essence’ of his success. He thought back about Pat; her time with him and the best of times that left a black-mark on him. He could not be superstitious, illogical or imposingly, cavalier. He knew this could be the case of his-life, or the last of a perpetual-’pity’ by himself. A pity, deeper than resolve. So bringing himself to a-pinnacle of loaded, ill-virtue; might settle an aversive-heart. A pre-elicit, perdition of ‘loss’ and of renewal-in new re-founding.

  A parturition-he could ‘guide; to be a ‘force’ to be recognized, and reckoned with. He-knew as placate, it would take all his-skills and competence... So, as he met again with John M. Smith the man looked-on, in decided-distain... After-all he’d came to him for solace, why would he trust him, now. ...Peter knew, as in many clinical-crimes, a feeling of either-forlorn or fear, affected the turn-out of a case. Now, as looking-inward, he had to be in a-requiem, by self-incision. He let-him speak-’first’. He-was angry, as an ‘anger’-of deluding; that Peter-realized, he’d have to deal with, on his-own. But he-had to cut-through that as fast and as gently, as he could... There needed to be no fear, anger or frustration, in the case he was preparing. He-had to reach him, as soon as possible. He-sat and let him proselytize, as much as he could... Then, piece by piece, putting-together his best-instilling, of the mentality-of a man who’d emotionally, ‘cracked’. By 4 p.m., he’d heard the whole-story. So the definition-of the legal-court forensics-study, began.

  Within the week, he-had a profile going, one that didn’t included ‘killer’, murderer or drunk but the ‘case’ reality that a man so entombed for perhaps, illness and family-dysfunction and distortion. From Peter’s once placid-image of his sister, her brother was a character defined by emotional, psychological and behavioral derision... His-impact in the world was distorted, ill-defined and ultimately, muted-to chance... He-focused on drinking and indulgent-factor which altered the mind... On moral-disparity, that divided and subdivided his-development. Of developed, despondency that had occurred all-through his-life. Of all the thoroughly, known opprobrium affecting a case-of murder. Emergent, was the very real-relationship of an NGRI case. He kept an idea of who John was; a brother held in-study as a plying to be an official psychiatrist-induction. Speaking with the legal-case would be a thorough case for the judge. He-knew it wouldn’t be open and shut, unless sufficient terms, had been made. The judge, as the case went into development, wanted-to see the case-through.

  His office was dark on the June night before final dissertation-between he and the litigates. He decided he needed a rest. John was in the hopefully, return to his hospital patient-room. Emergent as well was his ‘skills’ at work, deposition aside he was a worthy, legalist. He was proud even if he said so. He felt this was the ‘culmination’ of a cavalcade; which touched him to a deep-core. He and John deserved to forget and move-on. He-would be assured that as with the compunction-work with John, he’d one day get his freedom but as any mental-client habilitation, would require of him.

  ...After 4-hours in court, the decision came-down: NGRI, with indefinite sequester at Carsen P.C. Hospital. Luckily, Carsen was a judgment-hospital... So he would be taken care of by Carsen-staff. He followed up with him but basically, he’d saved him from many years in prison. ...He’d reached his-devotion to the field. He also, realized the ‘clarity’ of what he went-through was both human and basic-emotion. Dr. P. O. congratulated him on a ‘good-job’... And reverent-him, to keep-up the good-work. As such, he-realized that of things to come... P.O. Remained the Head of Units 1 and 2. The pranks that no one was sure of who did it was marginalized, and forgotten.

  ...’He’s bitten, I tell you’... ‘Why would my-Second try such a...’ ‘...Because he-adored some ‘black-hag’...’ ‘...People, I wouldn’t even let-in my home’. ‘I just can’t believe...’ ‘It’s my ‘best-guess’’... ...’Inform the D.O.C., we’ll keep a close-eye on him.’ Said Dr. Doule and the Head of Security. Neither, had anything to lose yet both had long memories... A new tawdry contention that for founding terms that the typical Regent-ignores; except it being Dr. P.O.’s hospital...

  Before too long, he was to sign-off of the case. And un-expecting, new legal-cases were referred to his-office, seeing how excellent, he was and hoping for his-’future’ intentions. ...After several-referrals, he-thought he’d turn them down, politely. Then Dr. P. O, who’d rarely, spoken to him lately suggested he should take on further; and perhaps, hone his-skills. And with this legitimate ‘legality’, a time to keep things: legal...’for the time being’. He couldn’t turn-down Dr. Doule with both temperance and tenure-over Peter. By Dr. Doule, whom he considered consummate professional, he couldn’t deny. Yet something-in Dr. Doule’s words came-back on him, in the back of his-mind. That something, was not ‘quite right’. Still he continued-to assist in his-cases that he offered. He was home that night-uncomfortable; yet willing to do his job as required-inimitably, he was an excellent-psychiatrist achieving and excelling in any areas he’d taken-up. From clinical to collective, to criminal he performed each with competence. He had dinner with his wife and as usual, they didn’t discuss cases, or connotes; but he did express how he was being considered for a broader-range of duties.

  ...’You know what I think?’... ‘You are going too far in your occupation; you need to pursue your own best task and stick to it...’ She went on and explained that ‘money’ and muting only went so far... Unless he was growing he would be considered ‘a-quaint’-staffer, how with developing-issues... She brought him to the idea that he had to find-out what was ‘most important’ to him. This, sat-on Peter’s mind for several days. Then, he brought it to the only man he’d most trusted; a companion: Dr. Doule’s internationally, stoic and sophistication-ally, defined. ...The only one, he knew of; he explained as a friend and devotee; he’d guide him and perhaps make things go smoother. It was 11 a.m., after morning-duties, and his-being in his office on-call, he answered a-call. He-was cordial and asked if he could have a discussion about his career at Carsen, or otherwise... Innumerably, he was his-contact; and he-had to g
ain-information that unfortunately, was going-to be ‘received’...

  Dr. P. O., explained that: ...’you’re not particularly, needing me to assign you’. ‘...After all, you are of a higher-caliber to make your own decisions’... ‘If and when, you do, please inform the coordinator.’ ‘And I will fully-understand.’ With that, he asked him to leave his-office and shut the door. ...Peter realized that what he had done, over-time, had come-back on him. ...Too much self-revolving, self-fortune and perhaps self-pejorative, in his own in-perceptions... For what was once independence; revealed a ‘kink’ in the proverbial ‘armor’ of professional-honor. Yet, he could not have realized that about Dr. Peter because his career so far was impeccable, and fully-pronounced. ...This, irritated-him. Because somehow, Dr. P. O., knew his-reaction in its dispelling-terms, was provoking-to his personal, ‘realities’. This set central on his mental-resolve. He was sure, Dr. Doule, was somehow virtually, realizing in the portent-care to what had occurred, as a personal ‘device’. ...An imperative-’caveat’ that could, if congealed, obliged and intensified was in what was a coinciding, ultimate. All the now, forgotten-projections...for which this was on an un-leveled, playing-field... But before and after, it was on an invariance. Which-in itself, was his-alone, by concerting...

  ...Now, the great-enterprise of his career and life had in small-emergences began to seep with the ‘water’-of imposing. He thought about his many inferior-conflagration and impairing. But he, also, was analyzing and thinking through what he knew he had to face. And in faith, was he reoriented. What was once-fissions, in thinking and integrated-emotions... There was difficulty, as fact, to his-situation and terms... A sophisticate and adamant-preclusion for he had to decide in imminent-recourse. As far as he knew, he could fall-into ‘maelstrom’, or fully recover. In the ordinal, pro-elicit determination. A veritable, ‘doctor-heal-thyself’, in situation many have come to face. Innately, in college physicians are taught never to ‘judge’ themselves because their work is too essential to intense and co-functional that they would not be able to perform. That in the many factors can effect a person... And on the other hand-specific and impersonal, un-insightful thinking ‘hardens’ one to the necessary vision-of healing. ...Was Dr. Doule the epitome of a reality as was a ‘radical’, revision to that alternative-to an axiom?

  A decision had to be made to accept, subjugate the influence of a man, by his behavior and thoughts... An en-somber of tact and travail. In an emergence and impact, that was no one’s fault. He had to realize, he couldn’t blame nor deny his-role... He wanted to explain, to resolve his behavior to exercise a conservative-restraint. But it was too late, too late to see pass his-enacting. ...To enlist a decency and decorum to ‘edge-pass’ indomitable and inceptive, indolence. Perhaps, it was too intellectual; that it was too late to insinuate or acknowledge... That ‘logic’, could not be exacting... Perhaps, he was thinking too hard exacting-on himself as well in an acknowledgement-by, in capabilities... He wanted-to ‘go-home’ and relax, but he had duties-to contend.. He did them, well. And no one could deny, that. ...A life is full of struggles and obstacles, yet you could be under the illusion that every term was simpatico or opulent. Perhaps that’s where incentive and integrity, was the ‘best-hope’. He-was going-to encompass his-role and actions, to make an incentive-to encourage his best talents, after all purpose was all he had.

  He decided, his work was all he-needed... If his once-mentor had revealed his-perpetration; in terms, he, needed to account for it. If anything he wanted to remain committed to it as ‘work’, even if that work possibly, was obviated on his once fragile-compunction. Something, noone but Peter in his tall-task and Dr. P. O., who’d now become an in-effective superior. Something he’d rarely, experienced. If anything, it was disenfranchising and aloft, a projection in-terms and issues. His-concerting-situation was significant and surmising. But there was no out. How had the once sufficient entailing and intimation, was now out-there. The power-of the certain-confliction could not be denied. Was his work now subdivided or under a new-outlandish situation. He couldn’t confirm or confer, to the contrition of being a doctor-therapist or healer. That his once competence and reverent-oath, to whom he-affirmed to do was now swaying in the balance.

  He was faced with the very real-aspect of a duality of himself in the ‘mirror’. The succinct emulation of self-vision and virtue. A new self-imperative to recede into or advance-forth in self-proposition, would he be a success, and overcome, or be rocked and deluded-by effort and chance. A strange-propitiation for which in self-duty and resolve, he had to assume. Was it a term or temerity, or maturing. When he first started-out, he was assured and of confident to understand, be in-control, and focused. He-knew even with this, he was still the same individual. Yet was he now, ‘aloof’ and misunderstood in a new realized variation. Did he need his own mental state in therapy. This, and the now in-veritable that sat squarely on his shoulders. Was his devotion not quite what it seemed? Or did he not, want to find-out. He was under a parable of self-fission. But he was almost sufficiently, caught between a ‘rock’ of duty and a ‘wall’ of inner-duplicity.

  He could afford to think-on it awhile. In fact, the dual-circumstance of work and warding made him take into terms; to adjust and be assertive. Perhaps, his long hard job, made for a resolute-repletion. He had to decide his next move to reorder; the both-distant and in-effective delusion, began and being in-ordinate by time and tumult. Which was his-human reality and the instilling-of proficient-competence... Hard-work had its own-resolution, and others are simply-outside their con-functional derision. The discriminate-terms of doctor in full-complicity, gave him-vision and vocal. In the very real-ratification in professional-ideas. And so, the avocation of worthy-work and re-defining made him have the strength of a driven, proponent. He had always been a ‘missions-man’, not an issues-man. He-continue on realizing he was on his own, and that if Dr. Doule would act in his-own guises there, was nothing worthy-of him, to do. In what was really, outside of his thinking, he-wanted to know what he could do. He was a psychiatrist, not a ‘criminologist’ needing to perform in other’s recrimination.

  Dr. Doule, went-about his duties in consummate-skill till one-day he knocked-on Dr. McBride’s office-door... ...It was a Tuesday-afternoon, and Peter was reading-dockets and charts, the usual-work. Dr. Doule, entered quietly, he looked at Dr. McBride, who was smiling with his pipe-tobacco stained-teeth. Peter was quietly, surprised. ‘Yes, Dr. Doule, what can I do for you?’ ‘...Well, Dr. McBride I realize you’re busy but can you take a little-time to listen to what I think would be right-up your alley... He went-on about their mutual duties, functions and work until he came to something asserting, and deficient. Then, he went silent noticing the look-on Peter’s face. It was startled and effacing-in self-deliberation; and Dr. Doule’s face was assertively, menacing... He’d taken a long time to create his-statement for Dr. Peter; it gilded him and defused Dr. Peter’s spirit... Men, who worked-together very long came to expect complacency. ...An objective-intimacy to work, and home. They’d once been good-friends and all respects, commendable. The once long-term relationship was now being burdened by the more mature, and insightful-mentor.

  ‘...So Dr. Peter if you would consider what I’ve said, I’m sure you will understand, what is important...’ ‘I will leave you to your work’... Then he left without a salutation. Peter, was mildly, astonished; he realized his-job was now ‘creased’, by a indubitable-devoid.. Although, he didn’t assume, he felt ‘guilty’ by the in-severance and cold, cool calmness of his-superior. It was a ‘wrapping-up’, in the terms of official-duty. Although, he didn’t see it very often he was receiving an imperative-ultimatum, which if ignored, or was in receipt; meant his-job or his-position. He’d seen workers in their position put-on reprimand for not performing to task; unreasonable-behavior or un-attentive contentions. Something Peter ignored or in directive, ensued. Now, he-f
elt the indolent, heavy-hand in a ‘choice’ in simple-propensity in his-role. He knew this was the least of his-worries. But also a duly, impunity-provision. If he-was to carry-on, he needed to outwit the inimitable, Dr. P. O.... He’d put himself in, an elicit-position. That-in cognitive, he had to get himself-out...

  It was a new-’twist’ to his situation, a situation-of infirm. He-knew he had to be fully, accounting. If with all he knew; an opponent-was tacking-on. He-had to accept and not be ‘unrealistic’ or adamantly, profane... He was under a new-circumstance, and he could not ‘deny’. It was a game-of-opportunities. Pre-supposed on it all was the illusion that someone was at ‘fault’. He knew the ‘illusion’ well. In the many factors of clients and patients in their psychological growth. In a way, both doctors were growing out together, but apart. Dr. Doule, had put a partition between them. Which Dr. Peter had initiated. He knew it had began with him; yet also he was under his-own terms. As in behavioral-ism, he had to make the right-actions without subjugation. If anything Dr. P. O. was acting-on now, prematurely, but there was nothing he could do. As a competent therapist he had to put his understanding outside Dr. Doule’s un-elicit, terms. What went on in Dr. P. O.’s head was all his own. He was the doctrinal-professional and Dr. Peter the American duty-man. Dr. Doule taught him a lot from his long-time mentor, but now a subversive superstition existed, in what was ‘bow’, in impetuousness.

  Dr. Peter was still devoted to what Dr.Doule stood-for, but he could not adopt the new-division by insurrecting-order. He could not be sure P. O. had attempted anything, yet behavior is an ontological thing. From the slightest oddity could see the generation of mental-issues as he himself could find guilty. Yet indeterminately, guilt he’d no longer, wanted anything to do with it. He had a ‘choice’ to make and the semantic-assertion, that with his-background would prove him right or the simplistic resolve to accept self-revision. Peter’s only decision self-purport, to affirm his own definitive. He finished work with talent and went home willing to acknowledge the device and reference of what Dr. Doule had imposed. He figured as he continued with his work what was important, was that ‘work’. As a clinical-specialist things like self-evocation; one needed to conform to convocation. It was by tenable-terms with the apparent off-handed affectation. He was accepting and redeeming, as divesting in elaborate-compulsion.

  And so, it was an inference in in-ordinal definition. An ill-plausible assumption of terms by two professionals in the enamoring cause. Of men, devoted, yet in determination, divided by, is ‘plight’ and ‘division’ of word and objective which no man can fully-portray. He was only human and the track of a life’s vocal became a virtue-fallen... On a dark-night on Halloween, Dr. Peter was on his-way in to the office. He was to report to Dr. Doule, and to committee to give a dissertation-on the center patient-factors of treatment. An ‘easing’, for Dr. McBride. He was not, superstition. In fact, as he was experience with all sorts of clients; there was little he’d not seen. His ‘acumen’ had shown-through and that versatility, reassured him. ...That night was cool and windy, there, on the hospital-lot. Peter could see it out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t especially, aware of them until they walked toward him. One wore a night-traffic-vest, another-a construction-jumpsuit; the other a plaid-jacket with work-pants... As they drew-closer he noticed them. ...’Hey, Doc.’ ‘What’s up?’ ‘May I help you, gentlemen?’ ‘No, nah, no’... ...’Just that you shouldn’t be out in the dark, so late’... I think you should hurry inside, were working on a concrete job...’ ‘Get-it, Doc-’concrete’?’... ...He was intimately, sure of something; which Peter knew, was not obvious... ‘Okay, I’ll keep that in-mind.’ He walked-away, as the three-stood there, watching.

  He left by 1 a.m., he told his wife that he’d be home late. And that jokingly he wouldn’t let any ‘ghouls’ get him. Now, that sounded all, too true. He understood that Dr. Doule was becoming as an affix in avenue. The convention to what Dr. Peter still unknowingly, experiencing was an adaptation of indefinite-dispersion from that civil-voicing of a directive to that elicit, junction by his irreverent-device in time and space. As he knew, in his job, was an in-adequate intention. An absolving of intensive-revision which he was instilled in its expediting, for which he was in instance. Indicative of social and enamored-consistencies. Preliminary of devaluing and ultimately, dissociate and in disconnect. In prelusion, he’d, rarely seen his-peers get let-go... He was too busy over-biting in his finalized-deeming. Peter knew he had to understand that the new-terms were to be accepted. But what was the ‘virtue’ of those contentions. Like the terms of psychological sciences, he had to a fulfill in a new self-role. Though, instincts as a psychiatrist were deeply ephemeral the instance was manly functional and reliable.

  Like the many-beings, it was becoming intense by the roles he played, no-certain sophistication was full, and might be representational and of repute. He-had to play along, till its end. And so, there-was a consummate-care, a confusion and commitment and the resolve, against what was a vengeful-determination... So as Dr. Doule expressed in the affective-trials, in what would happen to him. He wondered, if he had to explain to Dr. Doule his apprising-dedication. It was not, in doubt, not acting-on a ‘whim’, but wanting to be reliable and proceed in his-job. All that went-under the table. As he prepared to idealize, propagate and interpret those-terms. Maybe, by an ‘intensity’ and vision, that both-could see. A mutual-incursion that dutifully, exonerate in a long-term fellow-intention. ...That would decide, in what had been a professional-commitment. The division between them was a ‘mysterious-art’, of a provision; in the competence, for which there was personal-culmination. But what stood in the way, was the insipid reality. A superficial-dimension that stood-between them... Peter wanted to realize that it wasn’t ‘worth’ the trouble. Yet, did he do the deed that was lodged-between them. He was no immature-child, playing games.

  It was a ‘game’, and Dr. McBride was now, on in different-terms, was his job in ‘jeopardy’? Or was he to let the childish-behavior goes on. Indelibly, he was at terms of this pretension. It was a game of ‘odds’, and he was the target. ...He’d read about mental-games, though he was a target; it-was trifling like between lovers, friends and close-individuals, with something trivial at stake. Usually, centered on a ‘love-hate’ relationship.. One set-on dependence. Peter, could have slightly, seen the coming conditions. Yet he could see that his long-time mentor was the leader of a predominant-situation. He was perhaps ‘jealous’, or deep-seated division in an utter-severity of-opportunity and chances. Was it, as it sometimes became, a tryst of ‘trouble’. There-were many designs to this maladaptive-behavior. He couldn’t be sure, if Dr. Doule was really, an incipient individual of mental-derision or as well, ominous cause... It had been all, too complex. Did he or Dr. Doule or both, have dependency-problems. It all, had been about an disoriented-anomaly. In what was the behavior of someone, probably, dysfunctional. Peter began to think that there relationship had reached a disavowing.. And Peter might have been its cause. How far it went, couldn’t be sure. He decided he’d have-to wait it out. To let it fully-form and take-shape. It was doctor against doctor, Dr. Peter wanted no-part of it. Yet, he-knew, he was to try to let it ‘fully’-form, in its obstinate-chance.

  There was a ‘dual’-aligning in what was a duly complicit-order. Was he to stay-’operant’ or was he to be assertive, and approach the problem, clinically. He-wanted to believe his one-time friend was still a good co-worker. It would remain, a mystery. And what was under the ‘bridge’ would remain so. In a healthy individual-complex usually, adapted, cared-for and then forgotten. Peter-wanted to rely-on this, and exercise, corroborative-restraint and resolve. There was an official-air he-wanted to comply-into being resigned to duty and dedication that had always been his-strength. And that strength-a proficient, deeming. It ran ‘deep’, his-duty to work, and long-history of proficiency, alloted
him to be instilled-in his-job. A cursory-job by an oracle-in objective. An effective, incentive and valued-inception, that was not to be ‘impeccable’. He had to see beyond what was an everyday-reliance and officiate. He wouldn’t judge himself, as he wouldn’t, a one-time friend. Once arriving-back at work he was invigorated and instilled to continue his duty. There was no reason to assume anything, ‘worse’.

  The morning went-on, it was April, the weather outside was cool, windy and overcast. The weather forecaster had predicted ‘rain’, then ‘sunny’. He was reposed-into the job-of dissertation, driving the case-work and psychological write-up to write progress-notes; and the direction of his role in-treatment. ...An air of Spring, was upon the hospital. Carsen was a four-story facility, with 8-wards, doctors’ offices, kiosks, therapy rooms and a myriad of meeting-rooms, and outpatient-areas. It was a vibrant-clinic one of four in the area, having a very-large catchment area by the institute. The floor-plan of Carsen, was set-to cover eight-acres, and parking-lots...all given to establish, in effective in-take; arriving persons and personnel, and a state of the art, design... Peter, when arriving at work for the first-time, was impressed. He wanted to do his best after years-of study and under-study. Dr. Doule had been there several years. He didn’t seem to notice him until one-day, he went strictly, by the book; which was why he was hired... He had an admirable character, attentive to his work and what that meant.

  ...He was doctor-for the times, a devotee of the study of the mind... Having pictures of Einstein, Freud and Plato...his office, that Peter came to know was a ‘den’, of private-imposing. After he was assigned, he emulated-him. But as his-experience grew, he went his own way. As Dr. Doule, let his charges both take on and reside, in their own right. All that time and after, was an instilling-experience. Then, it was full-of experiences and learning of those and others making for a career and life. A truly consummate consistence it was a term of deeds, in full-programs and the changing-times. And now he was a worthy, distinguished and capable individual. Enjoying the culmination and culpable temptations as by temerity of a transition. But objectively, the imperil of present in literate, liberate-lament, was an aging-of-time. The many eludes-of education were very worthwhile and gratifying. But now, as he was going to lunch with his-wife, he wanted to finally, express independence from work... To think of it in-terms of new resolve, and intentions. Some of the ‘romanticism’, was evaporating and the one-time pride of Carsen meant the annals of a career were easing into self-preservation, and absolve. He knew many people in his-career, Dr. P. O. was one of the larger-ones... Yet he’d seen colleagues grow into ability and for whatever reason, move-on in independence and maturity...

  In fact, his logic had been sentimental-forged and enamored, of the prescience prevision of what was earlier. It was simply, provocation of a worthy and impeccable-time. A ‘premise’ of positive-congeal and empowerment. And so time passed with Carsen growing, fulfilling and adjusting in its changing-vision of honor, honest and prevision that came to treat a ‘maxim’ of people. Their mental-situate, curtailed and atoned to a health that was therapeutic. Psychiatric-by the ‘internals’ of chemical, behavioral; emotional and mental-collective. ...A ‘vigil’, to be people-treated and recover from the residuals-of ‘plight’. Peter was one of the men of Carsen carrying-forth the work and restitution. It was a very-residing, vocation. A job-reposed in concomitant-resolution. He’d forgotten, now in his approving of the terms of trans-vision. The ideal-image and ideal-edict had been reached by Peter. A full-circle propensity, that advantage-in remaining; now, ratified-in his work. He didn’t purposefully, analyze himself; yet his interest lied within his work. From young-spirit to fully, competent-therapist was an actual-exceeding. The problem he had now, was ‘minor’-like when he thought about his child-now. He’d become resolved by his distinct-career...

  end.