Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the therapy room felt almost too clean, almost… threatening. Sarah surveyed the room, her gaze lingering on the framed diplomas. She’d made sure to choose a high-backed chair, affording her a slight elevation over the man. It was a good vantage point.

“So, Sarah,” Dr. Bradley said, adjusting his glasses. “What brings you in today?” His voice was a little too high-pitched, a little too… tentative.

Sarah crossed her legs, carefully smoothing down her skirt. "Oh, you know," she began, her tone deliberately casual, "Life. Success. The usual." She let the implication of her words hang in the air, a tiny, exquisitely crafted poison dart.