watch.” I suppose that’s from Alice, too; I would never have thought of it on my own. But there’s something magical in the power to stop time, isn’t there? We have just a little of that magic when we sleep. (Voice getting softer and slower. Speech more halting, cat’s purring louder.)

Sleep. Sleep -- that’s a door to a whole new kingdom, too, isn’t it?

But the word I like is “drowse.” It has that contented buzzing sound at the end; insects in the grass. A good meal and the sun coming through the filters. Maybe you snore a little. I sleep a lot these days, but I never drowse anymore. Do you?

JS: Not so often.

MS: I have a magic word for real, of course.

JS: Your therapy --

MS: I can’t ever say it out loud or it loses its power. You’d be surprised how hard it is to pick a word you’ll promise never to say out loud again. Think about it. (pauses)

When I concentrate on my magic word, it takes me right to my beginning room. Beginning therapy. The place of ultimate safety. But I hardly ever go now. Dr. Gravem really is an excellent therapist.

JS: Can you describe your place of ultimate safety? You’re allowed to do that, aren’t you?

MS: It’s not recommended. But you’re a fellow professional. At least you’re here in a fellow professional capacity. Is it all right, Dr. Gravem?

It’s a cabin in the woods. Trees all around. Stars above. The steady sound of a stream. A cat. And always at night.

So there’s another word that’s magic to me.