Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the clinic seemed to amplify the heat creeping up Amelia’s neck. She fiddled with the hem of her oversized sweater, pulling it further down her thighs. Across the waiting room, a man with a shock of unruly brown hair kept glancing at her. She tried to make herself invisible, sinking lower into the worn plastic chair.

She'd been waiting for an hour, the rhythmic thrum of the heart monitor in the hallway a relentless reminder of her own fluctuating pulse. Her palms were slick with sweat.

Suddenly, the man across from her stood, his chair scraping loudly against the tile floor. He approached, a hesitant smile on his face. “Excuse me,” he began, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I couldn’t help but notice… do you…?” He gestured vaguely at her arm.