Gemotions

The phone slipped from Elias's sweaty palm, clattering onto the counter. He stared at it, the screen displaying the dreaded message: "I just don't know if I can do this anymore." Not to Sarah, his therapist, who he'd meant to text. To... Brenda. Brenda from the accounting department. His shoulders slumped. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache blooming behind his eyes.

He imagined Brenda's reaction. Brenda, who wore aggressively floral blouses and always brought stale cookies to office potlucks. He winced. A fresh wave of heat washed over him. He needed a stiff drink, and possibly a new life.

He grabbed the phone, typed a frantic apology, then deleted it, typing again: “Sorry, wrong number!” He paused, then deleted that too. This was a catastrophe.