Gemotions

The office hummed with the usual activity, phones ringing, keyboards clacking. John, however, sat frozen at his desk, staring at the flashing cursor on his computer screen. The presentation he was supposed to be working on remained stubbornly untouched. The words swam before his eyes. He found himself looking out the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass. The city felt distant, a vibrant bustle he could no longer relate to.

A new intern walked past his desk, pausing for a moment. She seemed hesitant, fiddling with a pen. “Mr. Thompson?” she asked softly.

He looked up, surprised. “Yes?”

“I… I think I know what’s going on,” she said. “It’s Malory Syndrome, isn’t it? I have it too.” A flicker of something like hope ignited in his chest.