Character: Wanda

We are all weird. Each of us has our own hell... And the psychiatric hospital is the only place where people understand that they went to hell.

What you know about me, except what you come up with?

Love? What a vague word! It means anything: animal passion, the tenderness, the disease.

- Yes, I am cruel, my dear Herve. I never will hesitate if I have to hurt some insignificant, from my point of view, fact, when I'm sure it will help me to achieve important goals. What do you think?
- I think you probably suffered a lot in his life. Violence is almost always revenge for something.

When you need to justify a bad act, I assure you, the arguments are always there.

- The poppy has published in her field, suddenly proclaims Magnus, as if rising to my defense. And proudly smiles. - Really, darling? Don't be shy.
- You're published? Anthony is like waking up and looking at me with unusual attention. - It's interesting. In what magazine?
Helplessly staring at Magnus. What's he on about?
- Remember! - he's messing with me. You said that you printed a note in the journal physical therapy.
Oh my God. No.
I'm going to kill Magnus. Why would he bring this up?
Anthony with Wanda waiting. Even Felix with interest glances at me. They expect me to say that they made the breakthrough in the question of cultural influence of physiotherapy on the nomadic tribes or something like that?
- It was a "Weekly roundup of physiotherapy", - I finally mumbled, looking at his feet. Is not a scientific publication. And just... the magazine. They once printed my letter.
- You conducted a study? - asks Wanda.
"No," I continue to mumble. Patients sometimes smells bad. And I suggested that the doctors put on their masks. It was... a joke. I wanted all laughed.

I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to go through that again.
- Don't worry. No one can love me.

- So I want.
Excellent. It is the words of men. Here is my hand.