Gemotions

The sterile white of the ophthalmologist's office blurred. Amelia had resigned herself to a life of increasing blindness. Then, the specialist mentioned another patient, someone with the same sporadic retinal degeneration, the same sensitivity to sunlight. “Unheard of,” the doctor had muttered.

A message appeared on her phone. It was from the other patient, a man named Mark. He suggested a meeting at the botanical garden. The soft light of the greenhouse felt like a revelation, each leaf and petal suddenly vivid.

He reached out and gently touched her hand, his eyes sparkling as he gestured to a rare orchid, “You see it too?” he asked, a grin stretching across his face. She found herself responding, a smile breaking on her lips, as she nodded. They spent hours together, sharing stories, experiences, and a hope she had lost.