Gemotions

The woman across the desk, a stranger, was saying something. He wasn't sure what. His ears rang, a high-pitched whine that drowned out the world. The document in front of him stated he had *multiple sclerosis*. He felt a growing sense of detachment, a feeling of watching his own life unfold from a distance.

He traced the outline of a pen with a finger, over and over, as if it was the only thing that mattered. His breathing became shallow, rapid. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. But all he could manage was a tight, controlled silence.