Gemotions

The city's relentless energy, usually a source of fuel for Maya, felt like a drain today. The endless stream of emails, the constant demands of her job, the relentless pressure to succeed... it had all taken its toll. She felt herself withdrawing, a slow retreat into a shell of quiet exhaustion.

She had to go. She hated the idea of therapy, and she hated even more the thought of opening herself up to a stranger. As it turned out, the therapist was David, who used to delight in hiding her backpack in the bushes in fifth grade. She almost turned and ran. He looked older, his hair thinner, but that same smirking glint was there in his eyes. He motioned her to a chair.

“So, Maya,” he began, resting his chin on his hands. "What brings you here today?" He sounded just like every other therapist she'd ever heard, and the annoyance was immediate.