Gemotions

The engine coughed, sputtered, and died. He pounded the steering wheel, each blow echoing in the sudden quiet of the deserted road. It was already late, and he was miles from anywhere. He let out a groan.

He needed professional assistance. He'd been battling the demons of his past for years, feeling as though he was on the verge of collapsing. A close friend, a well-meaning acquaintance, recommended a therapist, a guy named Mark Henderson.

The name evoked a wave of bitter memories, the stinging memories of bullying and humiliation. He closed his eyes, the image of Henderson's sneering face vivid in his mind. The thought of vulnerability sent a chill up his spine.