Gemotions

The weight of the unsaid hung heavy in the air. I looked out at the ocean, the waves crashing in a rhythmic, relentless pattern. A perfect metaphor, I thought, for the anger that pulsed through me. I’d seen the truth with my own eyes. Sarah, my 'neurosurgeon' friend, was a scrub tech. The facade of the medical conferences, the late nights at the hospital... all lies. The salty air did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. Each inhale felt shallow, each exhale a sigh of weary disbelief.