Gemotions

A persistent itch between his shoulder blades plagued him. James, staring at the ceiling, felt a deep dissatisfaction blooming in his gut. He tossed the covers off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Sleep was a distant memory. He needed to get out, do something, anything to alleviate the pressure that was building inside him. The last thing he wanted was to feel like he did right now. A flyer from a local health clinic had caught his eye yesterday. It advertised an introductory session with a therapist, Dr. Ethan Cole. Ethan Cole, the boy who used to pull his hair on the playground.

He groaned, considering the possibility of facing him again. Yet he felt a strange, inexplicable pull, a need to know the why.