Gemotions

The sun felt cold on his face as he walked to work. He’d been so careful; he always took pride in his efficiency. Now, the simple act of pulling a file, of organizing, was poisoned by the memory of the swap. He had been distracted, overwhelmed.

He arrived at his office to find the phone ringing. He let the machine pick up. He couldn't face anyone. The silence of his small office was stifling. He felt a constant throb of anxiety in his chest. His hands trembled as he poured himself a glass of water.

He'd spent the previous night pacing, unable to find peace. The faces of the people involved, the other patients, haunted his every thought. He knew he'd brought this upon himself.