Gemotions

The waiting room seemed to shrink with each passing minute. Emily was late, and it made Carol itch. She hated waiting, and she particularly hated waiting for her childhood rival, Mark. He, who had tripped her in the cafeteria. He, who had called her names. He was now a licensed therapist, which was utterly infuriating.

When the door finally opened, Carol marched inside. She surveyed the room, as if looking for something to criticize. She then sat down on the leather couch, crossing her legs at the ankle. She looked at her fingernails.

“Hello, Carol. Have a seat,” Mark said. Carol stared straight ahead. “I’m fine,” she said.