Gemotions

The support group meeting was about to begin. The thought of it made Charles’s jaw clench. He already knew all the problems, all the symptoms, all the anxieties. Talking about them for an hour with strangers felt like a punishment. A pointless, time-wasting punishment.

He was the last to arrive. He scanned the faces of the others. All of them looked tired, defeated.

A woman with fiery red hair caught his eye. She looked particularly restless, as if ready to flee.

She met his gaze and gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. He could understand what she was feeling.

The facilitator began the introductory spiel. He zoned out.

Later, as they talked, she kept looking at him.

"So… anyone else get the news recently?" she asked, with a knowing look.

"You mean…?" Charles said, pausing.

"Yeah. The *thing*."