Gemotions

The morning commute had been a nightmare, the bus packed, the traffic a crawl. Now, inside the bland office, David felt the vestiges of his day weighing him down. He sat on the edge of the chair, his posture rigid, shoulders tense. The room seemed oppressively silent, the clock ticking slowly.

His name was called, and he pushed himself up. The therapist's door opened, and there was Trevor, the boy who used to make fun of his clothes and his passion for comic books. He had to be mistaken, or perhaps the universe had a dark sense of humor. Trevor looked up, a look of recognition flashed in his eyes.

"David," he stated, and smiled. "Please, come in and tell me what's on your mind." David dragged himself across the room. He felt a profound sense of weariness, a hollowness in his chest. “I… I don’t even know where to begin," he mumbled.