Gemotions

The geneticist’s voice droned on, outlining the specifics of their shared anomaly. It was a dry recital of technical jargon. But Olivia wasn't listening. Her gaze was locked on the middle-aged man sitting to her left. He was staring at her with wide eyes.

"The… the vision?" he asked, his voice a hoarse croak. She nodded, her throat constricted. She also had the strange, shimmering effect that made everything seem slightly out of focus. She'd been struggling with this for years. Now, in this moment, the weight of the unknown, the isolation she'd felt, began to lift, replaced by a strange kind of recognition.

He closed his eyes momentarily, as if the gravity of the news had finally sunk in. His shoulders slumped. Then, he opened them again, fixing his gaze on hers. She could feel the impact of this shared circumstance.