Gemotions

The rhythmic clatter of the train was almost hypnotic. He rested his head against the cool glass, watching the world blur past in streaks of green and grey. A soft smile played on his lips as he thought of the upcoming pottery class. The feel of clay between his fingers, the quiet focus it demanded – it was exactly what he needed.

A familiar voice startled him. "Well, well, well," it sneered. It was Brenda, her eyes narrowed. He hadn't seen her since high school. She'd always been so… abrasive. Now, she was wearing a name tag that read "Dr. Brenda Miller, Therapist."

He tilted his head, amused. He said, "Brenda? Wow. You look… different." He spoke with a quiet assurance, a gentle certainty in his words.