Freak me out why don’t you

A client came into the office this morning. She was an elderly and very large black woman dressed in a black jacket and dress. Yeah, it was a little hot for that getup. She had trouble navigating the stairs with her giant walker that seemed constructed of old shopping cart parts. I stuck my hand out to help her. She ran my foot over with her walker. I smiled.

I offered her a seat in the waiting area. She eased her very large behind so slowly into a chair. I’d never seen anyone take that long to sit before. I might have timed boiling eggs in that time, I might have flown to the moon, I might have grown old in that time but I didn’t.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked her.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes grew wide with the whiteness. Her pupils disappearing somewhere there within.

“You have an unwanted visitor,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Where?” I asked turning to look.

“Don’t look,” she cried.

“Okay?” I said.

“He’s there in the doorway. He’s big and black and standing right there. You’d best get your pastor to pray him out of here,” she said, her hand on her heart.

I chanced another glance.

“I told you. Don’t look. He’s about yeah wide,” she said, spreading her hands apart as if showing the size of a fish she’d caught. “And very very tall.”

“Does he want a drink?” I asked.

“I warned you,” she said, picked up a magazine and began to read.

Now, a few hours later, I'm wondering if she really did see something or if she just didn't take her medication. My money would go on a lack of medication but then again...