Gemotions

The sheer ordinariness of it all was almost infuriating. The waiting room decor was innocuous: a few framed prints of generic landscapes, a stack of outdated magazines. He glared at a copy of *People*, picturing its pages with his face. *Dr. Susan Bell, Psy.D.* The name was so unremarkable.

He was shown into her office. The room was bland, filled with the usual trappings: a desk, a couple of chairs, a box of tissues. Susan Bell looked up, her expression neutral. He’d envisioned a more dramatic encounter. He felt disappointed. He felt a stirring in his chest. “Mr… Jameson?” she prompted. He would make her work for it.