Boxes, booze, and bad decisions Journal of Yoofi Akerman – Thursday, 11:42 PM I hate Thursdays. They’re predictable in their unpredictability. The city smells of wet asphalt, takeout, and the faintest hint of someone’s life choic…

Boxes, booze, and bad decisions

I hate Thursdays. They’re predictable in their unpredictability.

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Inked in blood I woke up today to Sniper sprawling on my chest like he owned my lungs. Pretty sure he did. I growled, he purred, and the negotiation ended in stalemate. He won. Again. Breakfast: black coffee, two…

Inked in blood

I woke up today to Sniper sprawling on my chest like he owned my lungs. Pretty sure he did.

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Prayer answered, terms and conditions apply By day, I help people unspool their knots. By night, I tighten a few. Sniper watched me write that last line and flicked his tail like a judge slamming a gavel. He’s a gray tabby with the eyes of a…

Prayer answered, terms and conditions apply

By day, I help people unspool their knots. By night, I tighten a few.

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Ticked off, wound tight If you’re reading this, either I survived the night or I didn’t bother to delete my notes. Both possibilities feel equally plausible. By day, I’m Dr. Yoofi Akerman, clinic psychologist, specialist …

Ticked off, wound tight

If you’re reading this, either I survived the night or I didn’t bother to delete my notes.

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Ticked off, wound tight If you’re reading this, either I survived the night or I didn’t bother to delete my notes. Both possibilities feel equally plausible. By day, I’m Dr. Yoofi Akerman, clinic psychologist, specialist …

Ticked off, wound tight

If you’re reading this, either I survived the night or I didn’t bother to delete my notes.

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Fear is a terrible therapist People think fear screams.It doesn’t. Fear whispers. It waits until you’re alone, tired, and convinced you’ve survived the worst. Then it leans in and reminds you exactly who you are. Tonight, fear…

Fear is a terrible therapist

Fear whispers. It waits until you’re alone, tired, and convinced you’ve survived the worst. Then it leans in and reminds you exactly who you are.

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Mirror, mirror, lie to me I used to believe mirrors were neutral. Reflective surfaces. Passive observers. That was before I found a dead man folded into a funhouse mirror like a broken origami swan. The mirror stretched his…

Mirror, mirror, lie to me

I used to believe mirrors were neutral. Reflective surfaces. Passive observers.

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Howling at 3:17 A.M. 3:04 a.m.Sniper is sitting on my chest, staring at me like I owe him money. “Don’t judge me,” I tell him. “You’re the one who puked on my boots yesterday.” He blinks slowly, which in cat means conf…

Howling at 3:17 A.M.

3:04 am
Sniper is sitting on my chest, staring at me like I owe him money.
“Don’t judge me,” I tell him. “You’re the one who puked on my boots yesterday.”

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Death becomes her If I had a nickel for every time I found myself crouching in a darkened corner, contemplating the ugly truths of the human psyche, I’d have a small fortune. Instead, I have a cat with a gift for di…

Death becomes her

If I had a nickel for every time I found myself crouching in a darkened corner, contemplating the ugly truths of the human psyche, I’d have a small fortune

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Croissants of the damned Journal Entry — 2:17 a.m.If there’s a hell for carbs, it smells like butter and regret. Sniper is judging me from the kitchen counter, tail wrapped like a question mark. He does this when he thinks…

Croissants of the damned

Sniper blinks. Translation: Says the woman with hidden daggers and a Ducati.

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Allegro Mortis By day, I’m Dr. Yoofi Akerman, clinic psychologist. PhD on the wall, ficus by the window, a kettle that screams like it’s seen things. By night, I become a woman in elegant black with opinions abou…

Allegro Mortis

Sniper approves of the wardrobe. He does not approve of my sleep schedule. “Don’t look at me like that,” I told him, shrugging into my jacket.

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Mirror, mirror… you’re dead

The rain slicked streets reflected the neon signs like broken glass shards on water.

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Medieval Dino – The pact of blood and sky The jungle was alive with murmurs of rebellion. Beneath the burning amber light of a dying sun, the chieftain of the Red Talons stood before his gathered kin, a ring of lean, scar-slashed velocirap…

The pact of blood and sky

The very air trembled as the wind dragged through the dense palms, carrying the scent of blood and ocean salt.

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Brushstrokes of death If anyone asks me how my week went, I’ll tell them “fine.” Technically true, if you ignore the stack of corpses, the claw marks on my Jaguar, and the lingering smell of eau-de-blood on my favorite …

Brushstrokes of death

If anyone asks me how my week went, I’ll tell them “fine.” Technically true, if you ignore the stack of corpses.

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The Houdini code I never liked mornings. Mostly because the sun insists on reminding me I have a beating heart. And hearts are overrated. But there I was, perched on the edge of my black leather couch, Sniper stret…

The Houdini code

I never liked mornings. Mostly because the sun insists on reminding me I have a beating heart.

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Jury’s last verdict If I wanted to relax, I’d take a bath. With candles. And maybe some of that overpriced lavender soap that smells like regret. But instead, here I am, perched on the edge of my black leather couch, …

Jury’s last verdict

If I wanted to relax, I’d take a bath. With candles. And maybe some of that overpriced lavender soap that smells like regret.

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The last hand of the mob Sniper thinks I’m crazy. He’s curled on the window sill like some judgmental sphinx, tail flicking every time I sigh. But the truth? He’s right. I probably am. The city sleeps in neon smears and ci…

The last hand of the mob

Sniper thinks I’m crazy. He’s curled on the window sill like some judgmental sphinx, tail flicking every time I sigh. But the truth? He’s right. I probably am.

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Nine lives and a bullet I woke to Sniper sitting on my chest, tail flicking like a tiny metronome of judgment. His green eyes bore into mine as if to say, You think you’re smarter than the city. Cute. “Coffee first,” I mu…

Nine lives and a bullet

By the time I slid my hand around the mug, my phone buzzed. One message. Two words. “They know.”

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Death in D minor I woke up to Sniper kneading my stomach like a tiny, furry assassin demanding breakfast or a confession. I gave him both.“Fine,” I said, staring at his judgmental yellow eyes. “I screwed up. Again.…

Death in D minor

I woke up to Sniper kneading my stomach like a tiny, furry assassin demanding breakfast or a confession. I gave him both.

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The cat, the corpse, and the Jag The thing about murderers is they always smell faintly of arrogance. Like cheap aftershave and regret. Today started with a group therapy session. Convicts, ex-cons, the occasional sociopath who th…

The cat, the corpse, and the Jag

The thing about murderers is they always smell faintly of arrogance. Like cheap aftershave and regret.

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Kiss of death, cherry red Morning started with coffee strong enough to dissolve a spoon. Sniper, my cat, glared at me from the counter like he knew I’d forgotten to refill his gourmet tuna stash. He blinked once. Judging. C…

Kiss of death, cherry red

Sniper, my cat, glared at me from the counter like he knew I’d forgotten to refill his gourmet tuna stash. He blinked once.

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Nine lives and a Sniper I always thought the day would end with chamomile tea and reruns of The X-Files. Instead, I’m bleeding onto the marble floor of a tech tycoon’s penthouse, cradling a USB stick in one hand and Snipe…

Nine lives and a Sniper

I always thought the day would end with chamomile tea and reruns of The X-Files.

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Tick-Tock, Heartstop Journal Entry #14 — Yoofi Akerman11:04 p.m. It was the kind of summer night that smelled like bad decisions and burnt brake pads. I was parked outside a crumbling halfway house in East Highland, si…

Tick-Tock, Heartstop

It was the kind of summer night that smelled like bad decisions and burnt brake pads.

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Low Beams Monday, 12:17 a.m.Location: Third and Mercer, under the burnt-out amber glow of an old sodium streetlamp.Mood: Suspicious. My cat just tried to smother me with his tail. *       *       *       *  …

Low Beams

I’d made peppermint tea, taken off my boots, and had just started reading a paper on nocturnal delusions in sleep-deprived psychopaths.

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Chapter & Curse Monday, 9:17 a.m. – My Office, East End Clinic, Above a Laundromat That Smells Like Regret Let’s begin with the fact that my cat, Sniper, peed on my latest patient file. Again.His message was clear…

Chapter & Curse

Let’s begin with the fact that my cat, Sniper, peed on my latest patient file. Again.
His message was clear: “This guy’s lying.”

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Splinters and Sins 09:17 AM – The Clinic of the Damned, Office #3 Sniper is sitting on my desk, chewing on my pen. Again. “That’s government property,” I tell her. She blinks at me with her one good eye and drops it …

My day? Just your average Tuesday: a pen-chewing dog, a "jellyfish" boss, and finding my own clone in a death origami box! 💀🤯

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Strings attached 10:07 a.m. — Clinic break room Martin Flores is wedged into a plastic chair like a beach ball in a vise, licking powdered‑sugar crumbs off a fourth donut.“Budget’s tight, Akerman,” he wheezes. “Gro…

🔪My group therapy clients have issues. One's dangling bodies like puppets! 😱 Good thing I brought my own strings (and daggers!). 😼 Almost became exhibit A myself.

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Slippers, psychopaths, Yoofi's journal is a wild ride! 👠 Four missing women, a greasy boss, and a very stabby therapist. Buckle up for dark humor & sharp edges! 🔪

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Scalpels and Secrets The day started like any other, Ruby the cat stole my last piece of turkey bacon, Martin Flores reeked of cinnamon donuts and bad intentions, and three former meth cooks scheduled back-to-back appo…

🔪 Former patient with a scalpel fetish & questionable taste in vet clinics leaves a gift for me at work. 🎁 Bureaucracy is bloated, literally. 💀

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Stuffed with motive 8:12 AM — Clinic Lobby, Hell’s Reception “Morning, Dr. Akerman,” chirped Lydia at the front desk, chewing bubblegum like she wanted it to die. “Morning,” I replied, sc…

Stuffed animals? Cute. Stuffed people posed as art? Less cute. 😬 My Tuesday took a dark turn with a taxidermy-loving ex-arsonist. 🔪🦌 Guess "dead art" is having a moment. 🙄

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