Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the clinic hummed, casting a sickly pallor over the waiting room. Amelia, fiddling with a loose thread on her worn cardigan, observed the elderly gentleman across from her. He kept his hands clasped tightly, knuckles white, and his eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape. When he let out a shuddering sigh, she felt a pang in her chest.

"Rough day?" she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

He jumped, then looked at her, his face etched with worry lines. "Just… waiting for the results. You?"

"Same," she replied. Their shared anxieties felt heavier in the stale air. After their conversation, she learned he was worried about what his tests would mean for his grandkids. She smiled softly, and told him she'd be thinking of him.