Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the clinic hummed, a relentless, irritating drone. Sarah tapped her pen against the hard plastic of the waiting room chair, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent space. She glanced at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes. Another half-hour, at least, before the doctor finally saw her. She shifted, the stiffness in her joints a constant, unwelcome reminder. This whole process was a monumental waste of her time.

A man, mid-fifties, with a shock of unruly grey hair, sat across from her. He cleared his throat. "Terrible wait, isn't it?"

Sarah just grunted, not meeting his gaze. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through emails she'd already read twice. The tiny screen felt oppressive in her hand.

“So, you here for the bone density stuff, too?” the man asked.

“Look, I’m waiting, just like you,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. She wanted to be left alone.

The man flinched, but then, surprisingly, he chuckled. “Right. Sorry. My name’s Arthur, by the way. This whole thing makes me feel… well, like I could explode.”

She finally met his eyes then, something flickered. “Yeah. Me too.”