Gemotions

Rain lashed against the office window, mirroring the storm brewing inside him. He hated the rain. He hated Mondays. He hated the fact he was even here. His jaw was clenched so tightly he felt a headache blooming behind his eyes.

He’d arrived early, hoping to avoid any unnecessary interaction. The coffee in the waiting area, however, tasted like dishwater, and the magazines were ancient and uninteresting. He'd flipped through one, managing to tear a page in his frustration. Now, sitting here waiting for his appointment, a wave of familiar resentment washed over him.

The door clicked open, and there she stood. Brenda, the bane of his childhood, his former tormentor. Her expression was neutral, her posture composed, but the flash of recognition in her eyes was all he needed. "Mark, please," she said, gesturing towards the room. He followed, his shoulders stiff, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest.