Gemotions

The elevator doors chimed open with a clatter, but Mark barely registered the sound. He’d been standing there, frozen, for what felt like an eternity. His medical records, the doctor had said, had been jumbled with someone else's.

He began to walk down the hall at an almost frantic pace. His jaw was clenched, his eyes sharp and focused, darting from side to side. Every shadow, every sound, seemed to amplify the unsettling reality.

He needed to talk to someone. He needed an explanation. He needed everything fixed. A cold sweat slicked his palms, and his breath came in short, shallow gasps.