Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the hospital cafeteria. Elias idly poked at the congealed mashed potatoes on his tray, the blandness mirroring his mood. He’d been stuck in this place for weeks, ever since the…incident. The sterile white walls, the incessant beeping of machines – everything grated on him. He felt a profound sense of restlessness, a constant itch he couldn't scratch. He sighed and picked at a loose thread on his hospital gown.

A woman with fiery red hair approached his table, her expression a curious mix of trepidation and resolve. "Excuse me," she began, her voice hesitant. "Are you… Elias?”

He nodded, a flicker of something, perhaps mild amusement, crossing his face. What now? Another well-meaning visitor who didn’t understand the debilitating ennui that had settled upon him?

“My name is Clara,” she continued, her hands twisting in her lap. “I have…well, I have what you have.” She paused, the weight of the statement hanging heavy in the air. "The Malory Syndrome."