Gemotions

The doctor's office felt sterile, cold, the opposite of the sunny, chaotic world of their childhood adventures. He had tracked down Dr. Evelyn Reed, his childhood friend, hoping for a catch-up, perhaps a chance to rekindle their bond. Instead, he was met with a polite, professional detachment.

"I don't recall a David," she said, her expression carefully neutral as she reviewed his old address. "Perhaps there's been a mix-up."

David felt a cold wave wash over him, a deep-seated frustration bubbling to the surface. He felt as if the walls were closing in, the bland beige of the office sucking all the color from the world. He wanted to throw something, to shatter the polished veneer of her composure, to force her to acknowledge the history they shared. He abruptly stood up, mumbled something about a mistake, and practically fled the room.