Gemotions

He’d almost choked on his coffee when he saw the name. Barnaby “The Bully” Butterfield, a therapist? Impossible! He’d spent years making his life miserable. Now, he was supposed to pour out his emotional angst to him? A thrill ran through Arthur; the day had become very interesting.

Arthur pulled open the door. The waiting room was filled with soft music, a stark contrast to the rough Barnaby he knew. He took a seat and began to whistle a lively tune. He tapped his fingers on the armrest, a constant, rhythmic beat.

Barnaby’s voice was even more of a surprise: “Arthur? What brings you here?”

"Oh, just a friendly visit," Arthur replied, his eyes sparkling. "Though, I think I might require some… *extensive* therapy. Maybe about a certain incident involving a stolen bike and a strategically placed puddle?"