Gemotions

The drive to the clinic had been torturous, a never-ending stretch of road punctuated by stoplights and delays. The air inside the car felt thick, heavy, as though filled with static electricity. She tapped her fingers against her leg, a frantic rhythm. The impending appointment was a dark cloud hanging over her.

She had to walk through the waiting area. A man sat there, his head in his hands. He looked up, and she saw the same expression of dread. He looked as though he'd been given a death sentence, and that's precisely how she felt.

“Tough day?” she asked, her voice cracking.

"You have no idea," he replied, and for the first time in a while, she felt less alone.