Gemotions

The sterile white walls of Dr. Ramirez’s office seemed brighter, almost cheerful, after the news. I leaned back in my chair, a wide grin plastered across my face. He had the same condition. He *understood*.

"So," I began, my voice brimming with an excitement I couldn't contain. “The muscle fatigue? The spatial disorientation? The… the craving for certain foods that somehow *work*?” My hands flew about as I described the symptoms.

Dr. Ramirez, a man usually stoic, simply nodded in agreement. His eyebrows were raised, mirroring the enthusiasm on my face. A shared glance, a bond forged in a rare affliction.