Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room seemed to amplify the silence. Across the room, John, his face pale and drawn, was telling his family about his "crucial role" in finding a cure for cancer.

I clenched my fists. I knew he'd been fired from the lab for incompetence. I'd heard the story from a mutual acquaintance, and I'd checked his LinkedIn. He was currently unemployed.

Each syllable he uttered felt like a deliberate slap in the face. The lie was so monumental, so cruel, especially given the circumstances. My breath hitched in my chest. I felt like I was going to explode.

I focused on the tiled floor, the coldness a small comfort against the searing heat of my resentment.