Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, back and forth, in the sterile waiting room. James couldn't seem to stand still. He'd just been told about the mix-up; his file was apparently someone else's. The receptionist had been apologetic, but the reality of the situation hammered at his temples. He had someone else's health information.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. His eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail - the cracked paint, the faded posters, the hushed conversations. He felt a need to keep moving, to keep checking the walls.

A deep breath, quickly expelled. He’d barely looked at it, yet the very notion of what it might contain sent a shiver down his spine. The weight of this misstep was heavy. He knew he was the only one who cared.