Gemotions

The brochure lay on the table, glossy and inviting. "Dr. Thomas Blackwood: Helping You Heal." He’d almost thrown it in the trash, but something had stopped him. He’d spent countless hours since then staring at the paper, and each time he felt his fingers begin to tremble.

He remembered the playground, the jeers, the physical and mental pain. He’d never forgotten the way Blackwood had looked at him. The sheer contempt. Now he was a therapist. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. He was beginning to think there wasn't a world where he could ever feel better.

He picked up the phone.