Gemotions

He stared at the blank page, a single word scrawled in the middle: "Why?" Thomas usually found solace in his writing. But now, every word felt fraudulent. The wrong medical results. His life, his history, was a puzzle he didn’t know how to assemble.

The pen felt heavy in his hand. He tossed it aside, the noise of the pen hitting the table loud in the quiet room. He walked away from the page, toward the window, and stared at the rain, and felt the words stuck in his throat. He longed to be someone, anyone, else.