"Good morning, Mr. Gordon. Can you hear me?"

The clinic's overhead fluorescents filled his ears with an annoying high-frequency hum.

"Mr. Gordon? Do you know where you are?" The doctor leaned in.

"The clinic?" Mr. Gordon sat with his head locked in a halo-shaped devise.

The doctor checked his pupil function with a pen light. "Very good. Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday?"

"Yes, that is correct. And, lastly… do you know why you are here?"

"To Redefine Life with Dimensia… to remember…"

"To remember in the correct way."

"Without pain and without confusion…"

"Absolutely. Now... tell me about your family?"

"Let's see… I have a beautiful wife… Melody. We've been married forty-three years. We have two beautiful daughters, Samantha and Tamara… Sam and Tam… two angels who are the best, most caring children a parent could ever have…" Tears began to well in Mr. Gordon's eyes. He didn't know why describing his family made him feel so sad.

"Mr. Gordon?"

"Yes?"

The doctor smiled. "We have to go back in."

"Oh… Okay." The last thing Mr. Gordon saw was the doctor nodding to the technician behind him. Then everything went black as if a thick shroud had been placed over his head.

* * *

"Mr. Gordon? Can you hear me?" Again, the harsh glare of the clinic's overhead fluorescents assaulted Mr. Gordon's vision.

"Mr. Gordon? Do you know where you are?" The doctor flicked a pen light across his eyes.

"The clinic?"

"Very good. Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday?"

"Yes. Okay, now. Can you tell me about your family?"

"I have… I had a beautiful wife. Her name was Melody. We were married nearly thirty years… until she passed away. We had two beautiful daughters, Samantha and Tamara. Sam and Tam, we called them. I hear from them almost every day. Samantha is a middle school art teacher. Tamara is a veterinarian." Tears began to well in Mr. Gordon's eyes. He didn't know why describing his daughters would make him feel so sad.

"Mr. Gordon?"

"Yes? I'm sorry."

The doctor smiled. "No need to apologize. But we need to remember in the correct way."

"Without pain… without confusion…"

"That's why we're here."

The doctor nodded to the technician operating the Dimensia halo. The overhead fluorescents dimmed suddenly, then shut off completely, although the high-frequency hum followed Mr. Gordon into the darkness.

* * *

"Hello, Mr. Gordon. Do you know where you are?"

The overhead fluorescents were less bright this time.

"The clinic?"

"Yes. Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday?"

"Okay, now. Your family—can you describe it for me, please?"

Mr. Gordon took a deep breath. "I was married for nearly thirty years to a beautiful woman by the name of Melody. She died of cancer. Our two daughters, Samantha and Tamara, were devastated. Samantha put off going to college when her mother took ill. And Tamara was just lost. She had her animals. She loved her animals. She found in them a kind of solace from all the turmoil of that time."

"Do you still hear from them?"

"Oh, they're busy. They have very busy lives." Once again, tears began to well in Mr. Gordon's eyes. He didn't know why thinking about Sam and Tam made him feel so sad.

The room went black.

* * *

"Mr. Gordon. How are we doing today?"

"I can barely see. Can you turn up the lights?"

"Is that better?"

"It will do."

"Do you know where you are?"

"Do I know where I am? Of course I do. Redefine Life with Dimensia. I'm here at the clinic."

"Good. Do you know what day it is?"

"It's Friday. But, for me, it's Friday every day, because I'm retired."

"Very good. Can we talk a little about your family?"

"Sure. I'm a widow. My wife died about ten years ago. Cancer. We were married for thirty years.  We had two daughters. Their mother's passing hit them hard. Samantha, the oldest, wanted to be an artist, but she put her schooling on hold when her mother got sick. I wasn't much help at the time. Samantha did a lot of the heavy lifting. And it took a toll on her. The youngest, Tamara, well she was always an independent one. A free spirit. Her and Samantha were close, until the cancer. Tamara just drifted away. I guess that was her way of dealing with things. She had her animals. She even once said she wanted to be a veterinarian. But each time one of her animals died, it was like her mother all over again, and she just let go. She was gone within two years. Drugs. Samantha blamed me, of course, for not being there. We haven't spoken to this day. I don't blame her. I wasn't a very good father. It is what it is. So, yeah, there you have it. Did I pass the test?"

The doctor nodded to the technician operating the Dimensia halo. The overhead fluorescents brightened a degree as the halo was removed.

"You did very well, Mr. Gordon. Only four sessions."

"Four? It seems like I just got here."

"It's not enough that we remember. It's that we..."

"Remember in the correct way…"

"Without pain and without confusion." The doctor and Mr. Gordon smiled as they recited the last line together.

"It was very good to meet you, Mr. Gordon."

"Likewise."

"Take care."

"You, too, doc."

Aside from God's Cruel Joke, Kurt Newton's writings have appeared in Apocalypse Confidential, Punk Noir Magazine, Urban Pigs Press, and Bionik Pussy.