Gemotions

The hum of the air purifier grated on Marcus’s nerves. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, shifting in his seat. The magazines were a joke: pictures of happy families, perfect homes. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. He needed to get this process started.

He'd tried to come to terms with it all, but nothing ever seemed to give way. And this… this waiting was pure torture. He ran a hand over his face. He felt confined, trapped in a slow-motion film reel.

Finally, the door opened. Standing there, a welcoming smile on his face, was his former tormentor, now a therapist. An involuntary groan escaped Marcus's lips.