Gemotions

The air in the building was stifling, the kind of oppressive heat that seemed to amplify every negative emotion. He had to calm himself. He'd rehearsed this, word for word, multiple times. He would not stutter. He would not falter. He would make him understand.

The door opened. There he was: Kevin Matthews. He was older, his hair thinner, but the same sneer lingered around his mouth. *Therapist.* The irony was too rich. "Mr… uh… Davis?" Kevin gestured to a chair. James took it. And, he would start with the fact he’d forgotten his last name.