Gemotions

The air in the subway car was stale, thick with the scent of old newspapers and desperation. Daniel stared out the window, watching the city blur by. A sense of unease had become his constant companion, a dull ache that followed him everywhere. He had to go to therapy.

He looked at the address. It was a well-appointed building. He knew the name on the directory. He wasn’t prepared for this. The door said, “Dr. Thomas Bailey, PhD.” Thomas Bailey, the boy who made his life hell in junior high. He felt his hands go cold.

He found himself shaking his head. He had to be dreaming.