Gemotions

The sterile smell of the clinic, usually unnoticed, now felt suffocating. David ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying his utter weariness. He’d learned his records were mixed with… *that guy*. The one who always wore the garish Hawaiian shirts and smelled faintly of stale beer. The one with a history of… well, let’s just say it was the antithesis of David’s life.

He'd spent the entire morning listening to the apologetic doctor, each word a further insult. The doctor kept repeating that it was a ‘clerical error’, a phrase that felt deeply inadequate. He felt contaminated, somehow. The thought of his personal medical details associated with someone so… unrefined made his stomach churn.

He looked at his reflection in the window, his expression tight, his posture stiff. He felt a profound desire to distance himself from the whole, embarrassing situation. He'd never felt so repulsed. He would find out exactly what happened and make sure to correct this absurdity.