Gemotions

The doctor’s words echoed in the small examination room, but the sound felt distant, muffled. I sat, my hands clasped together, watching a single dust mote dance in the sunlight streaming through the window. The mix-up, the incorrect diagnosis, the false history…it barely seemed real.

“We’ll fix it,” the doctor said, his voice full of concern. I nodded slowly.

Inside, I felt like a leaf on a slow-moving river, simply going with the current. I should be angry, I should be frustrated, but instead, I was so very…still. The details didn’t matter, the future didn't matter.