Gemotions

The waiting room felt suffocating. Amelia tapped her foot, a relentless staccato against the linoleum. She’d been waiting for an hour, another hour wasted in the fluorescent glare of this sterile place. The doctor finally called her, but the smile on his face seemed forced, the words a bit too cheerful. "Wonderful news, Amelia! Your blood work came back, and… well, you're the picture of health! Cholesterol levels perfect, iron through the roof, bone density like a twenty-year-old."

A coldness crept up her spine. Twenty years old? She was forty-five, plagued by the aches and pains of a life spent hunched over a computer. Her eyes scanned the doctor's office. The diplomas, the framed photographs of happy families – none of it felt real anymore.

The doctor handed her the file. The name on the top wasn't hers. It was another woman, someone younger, someone… thriving. Amelia’s fingers clenched the folder so tightly that the edges began to curl.