Gemotions

The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room was the only sound. I sat in the chair, my hands folded, watching the hands of the clock slowly advance. I found myself focusing on the way the sunlight hit the dust motes. I felt at ease in my own skin.

I had been feeling overwhelmed, lately, and had decided to seek professional guidance. I'd read good things about Dr. Harding. It seemed like the right choice.

The door opened, and she entered. My jaw dropped. It was Rebecca Harding, the girl who made my life a living hell. A profound sense of equanimity washed over me, a state of deep inner stability. All the old anxieties were present, but they felt contained, muted.