Gemotions

The bustling city street seemed to recede as Eleanor walked through the door. It was a difficult time. She’d been spiraling for months, and she felt like she was drowning. This therapy session was her last resort.

The waiting room was a blur. Eleanor was not looking forward to the appointment.

Then, there he was, David Miller, stepping out of his office. He wasn't the menacing figure of her childhood. He was a man of quiet authority, his gaze gentle. When he spoke, it was with a voice that seemed to penetrate to the very core of her, and she felt a small, delicate bud of happiness bloom in her chest. It was a new feeling, a feeling of hope.