Gemotions

The doctor's office was sterile, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and hushed whispers. David sat in the waiting room, his gaze fixed on a point in the patterned carpet. The nurse called his name. A biography had been written about him, without him knowing. He had just discovered this.

He sat in the examination room, the leather of the chair cool beneath him. He listened as the doctor explained the situation, the details of the book. A strange calm enveloped him, a lack of internal friction. He nodded slowly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The doctor spoke of feelings, of anger, of betrayal. David simply stared at his own hands, his fingers intertwined, a gesture of quiet acceptance. He didn’t fight the feelings, or lack thereof.