Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped onto the floor with the therapist's offices. His feet suddenly felt heavy, and he found himself lingering in the corridor. He searched for the name plate, his vision blurring. A wave of unease washed over him, and he took a shaky breath. This was absurd. He should just turn around and leave. He took another step forward.

The waiting room was neat and tidy, filled with comfortable-looking chairs. He recognized the man immediately, even after all these years. The man, once a source of endless trouble, looked relaxed and inviting.

He felt a deep sense of disorientation. He had come here seeking help, but now he wasn't sure what to do.