Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and David practically launched himself forward. A shiver ran up his spine, a delightful buzz. The hallway was quiet, the only sound his own rapid breathing. He imagined the look on Mark’s face when he saw him. The tables would be turned.

His chest felt light, almost hollow, as if he could float away. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a wild, excited drumbeat.

He reached the office door, the nameplate gleaming under the overhead light. "Mark Peterson, MSW, LCSW." He inhaled deeply, then knocked, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the silence.