Gemotions

"Another one," I muttered under my breath, watching the new patient being ushered into Dr. Chen's office. I was on the waiting list for a clinical trial, and the influx of newcomers was adding to the delay. My fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the armrest of the plastic chair.

This new person was young, maybe just out of college. Their eyes were wide and filled with a naïve hope. It made me want to gag. Hope was a dangerous delusion.

The nurse called out my name, and I rose, not meeting the newcomer's eye. I strode towards the door, feeling the familiar prickle of irritation. I didn't want to become friends, or share stories. This was my battle.