Gemotions

He stared at the offending document, a cheap, flimsy thing that held the key to his crumbling world. The words swam before his eyes, a jumble of medical jargon that became a personal insult with each passing moment. A tremor ran through his hands. He wanted to throw the whole mess across the room, to shatter the pristine surfaces of the clinic.

"It's a mistake," the doctor had said, a dismissive wave of the hand. "An unfortunate clerical error." Errors that would affect his life now. He could practically feel the blood boiling in his veins, the heat radiating outwards.

He wanted to find the person responsible, the one who caused this upheaval. He wanted to look them in the eye and say something terrible. Instead, he just sat there, the air thick with a simmering resentment, a coiled spring ready to unleash.