Gemotions

She stirred the chamomile tea, the fragrant steam rising to meet her face. The rhythmic clink of the spoon against the ceramic mug was the only noise in the quiet kitchen. Sunlight warmed her back as she leaned against the counter, surveying the garden from the window.

A persistent thrum of anxiety from an old issue had her seeking professional help. The therapist's office was bland, beige, and predictable. Then, she was surprised to find herself staring across from Kevin, the boy who'd made her school years a misery. Her heart skipped a beat, then seemed to settle again.

Kevin's eyes met hers. "It's good to see you, Amelia," he said. His voice was steady, calm. "I hope you are ready to begin the work."