Gemotions

The neurologist, a woman with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, had just finished explaining the diagnosis: Reticular Dystrophy. A rare, degenerative disease that affected the skin. Daniel felt the color drain from his face as he stared at the young woman next to him, her own skin marked with the same intricate, lace-like pattern he had.

He sat there, feeling as if the world tilted on its axis. He could feel the pulse in his ears, and found himself reaching out, almost unconsciously, to touch her hand. He pulled his hand back, as if burned. He wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth.

"So… this…?" he stammered, gesturing weakly at their shared, visible affliction. The woman simply nodded, her gaze fixed on her own hands. A shared understanding, a silent pact of sorts, began to form in the sterile silence of the examination room.