"Ah," said this apparition. "You are Laurence Thompson. Sit down. Sorry no one was in the outer office but my secretary is out to lunch. What can I do for you."
"Well," said Thompson. "This is kind of hard to say, Doctor, but I'm—seeing things. Hallucinations."
"What are you seeing, Mr. Thompson?"
Thompson fingered the end of his tie. "Little green men."
"Ah," said the doctor. He leaned forward in his chair. "And what do these little green men do?"
"They give me ideas for stories. I'm an author."
"That is all they do?"
"They sit on a beam of light, too."
"Oh yes." The doctor took off his spectacles and began to polish them. "On a beam of light, of course. When and how did you first see these little men?"
"Well," Thompson ran nervous fingers through his hair, "Last night was when I first saw them. They came out of the woodwork."