Gemotions

"This can't be right!" Michael roared, the sound echoing through the sterile waiting room. The clinic staff, used to dealing with nervous patients, looked on with a mixture of pity and apprehension. He felt a pressure behind his eyes, a tightness in his jaw.

He slammed the results report on the counter. The paper crinkled under the force. The nurse winced. He wanted to scream, to dismantle the entire laboratory, to punish the world for the sudden, bewildering disruption.

He needed to get out, to escape the suffocating atmosphere. He strode out of the clinic and into the harsh sunlight, the glare reflecting his internal disarray. He started walking, not knowing where he was going, only that he needed to move, to shake off the weight that had settled on his shoulders.