You mean like what Sheehan does? Yes, we can tell him I've been writing in my diary. Perhaps we can find some twigs to stick together in an interesting way and tell him that it represents my 'trauma', and I've... what is it... cried on your shoulder, talked about my feelings.

[He waves a hand dismissively and abruptly stops, pulling Walter to sit down in the sand with him, facing the sea.]

Ah, Walter, let me look at you. What happened to your head? And what are those underneath your shirt? [He isn't even identifying them as bandaids.]