Gemotions

The sterile environment magnified everything. The humming of the fluorescent lights, the faint, lingering smell of disinfectant, the way the doctor’s smile felt overly practiced. Richard found his breath coming in shallow gasps. Across the room, a young woman was frantically picking at her cuticles, leaving ragged edges. The sight made his jaw clench.

“I… I have what you have,” the woman finally said, her voice small. Richard recoiled slightly, wanting to physically put distance between them. Her words, and the way she said them, were like a poison.