Gemotions

He’d almost tripped over himself getting to the hospital. Thomas nearly ran the red light, ignoring the honking car behind him. Today was the day! He was getting the all-clear. The test results *had* to be positive. He had spent weeks anticipating this moment, the moment his life could finally begin.

The nurse beckoned him into a small consultation room. Thomas settled into the stiff chair. His hands were clasped in front of him, knuckles white. He tapped his foot incessantly. The doctor entered, the file in hand, his face unreadable.

"Thomas, there seems to be a mix-up with the records," the doctor started, placing the file on the table. Thomas's chest tightened. He sat upright.

"This is… not your file. It belongs to a Mrs. Peterson. Her prognosis is… different from yours." Thomas's face fell. He felt his stomach twist. The feeling of hopeful expectation evaporated.