Gemotions

The email had been a bolt from the blue. "Therapist Referrals" it stated. And then, at the bottom, “Recommend: Brenda Peterson.” The name sent a wave of… something… across Mark's face. He snorted, a brief, sharp sound. Brenda Peterson, the girl who used to delight in tripping him in the cafeteria, now a licensed therapist. What a twist of fate.

He decided to go, purely for the experience. He imagined the scene: Brenda, trying to maintain composure as he recounted his "childhood traumas." His hands, usually steady, felt fidgety as he waited. He drummed his fingers on his knee, a small, barely controllable vibration.

The session started with a polite greeting from Brenda and then quickly devolved from there, for Mark. He found himself smiling, a slow, deliberate widening of his lips as he saw the expressions on Brenda's face. He knew he was being difficult, probably testing her boundaries. He'd never felt so at peace.