Gemotions

He wandered through the supermarket, the bright lights and endless aisles overwhelming. He couldn’t focus, the sounds and smells grating on his nerves. He grabbed a few things, mostly junk food, not because he was hungry, but because it felt like the only thing he could do. He felt a deep, abiding sadness, a sense of disconnect from everything. He was always tired, with no rest ever coming.

He had given in and decided to see someone. He was surprised, however, when he walked into the office. It was Gary, the boy who had made his school life a misery, now sitting behind a professional desk.

“Come in, John,” Gary said, gesturing towards a chair. The room was spotless, sterile. He felt instantly smaller, exposed.

“So,” Gary said, leaning back. “Tell me about it.” The polite words, the clinical detachment, grated on him.