Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the doctor’s waiting room seemed to shrink around me. I stared at the outdated magazines, each page a fresh disappointment. A knot tightened in my stomach. Hours spent waiting in silence, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and futility. My date, Mark, was late. He’d told me he was running late, but that's what he *always* did. I flipped through a magazine, then threw it down in disgust.

Finally, he arrived, his usual dishevelled charm in full force. He gave a vague excuse about "something coming up". It was all too familiar. His voice was bright, the tone forced. I wanted to scream.

He started complaining about some colleague. But it sounded too familiar. I found myself focusing on his clothes, the faded blue shirt and the way it was worn. Then, in the waiting room I suddenly spotted the other woman.

Later, while they were discussing Mark, she said, "He told me he was going to the dentist today."