Gemotions

The office was tastefully decorated, the walls adorned with calming watercolors. *Dr. Bartholomew Finch, Clinical Psychologist*. He felt the blood drain from his face and a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Bartholomew Finch. The boy who made him eat dirt at recess. The boy who seemed to get a thrill out of his fear.

He sat for a moment in the waiting room, unable to move.

He pushed the door open, his throat suddenly tight.

Bartholomew, looking far older, rose from his chair. “Come in, Richard. Please, sit down. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His voice was calm, almost gentle. The image of the sneering boy was a stark contrast to the man before him.