Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital room offered no comfort. Maya stared out the window, the city lights a blurry constellation in the twilight. She was waiting for a diagnosis, for answers. Then, a soft melody drifted through the open window, carried on the gentle breeze. It was her song.

Her heart lurched. She sat up abruptly, her hospital gown rustling. A distant busker, hidden from view, strummed a familiar chord progression on a worn guitar. The lyrics, her lyrics, spilled into the room. She felt a profound instability, as though the ground beneath her had shifted.

She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling a frantic flutter beneath her skin. This was wrong. This was impossible. She struggled to breath, the air suddenly thin and insufficient.