Gemotions

Clara stood outside the imposing brick building, the crisp autumn air nipping at her cheeks. She was meant to be reviewing the latest marketing campaign, but the image of her childhood tormentor, now a therapist, kept intruding. She’d seen the nameplate on the door: "Mrs. Peterson, LMFT."

She felt a phantom pain in her side, remembering the shove in the hallway, the whispered insults. Her shoulders tightened. She pulled her coat closer, feeling a sudden need to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

She imagined herself walking in, sitting across from her, sharing her deepest insecurities, and shuddered at the thought. The very concept seemed absurd. She felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes.