Gemotions

The late afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass windows of the church. Thomas sat in a pew, listening to the organ music reverberate through the high-ceilinged space. The sound calmed his racing thoughts, the harmonies a soothing balm.

He was working through some old traumas. Entering the therapist’s office, he almost turned around. It was Paul, the kid who had relentlessly teased him. He paused, then walked forward, forcing himself to breathe.

“Thomas,” Paul said, his eyes meeting his. “Come in. I’m glad you’re here.”