Gemotions

He slammed the file onto the table, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet waiting room. The receptionist flinched, her carefully constructed smile dissolving for a split second. A victory, however small. He savored it.

His palms were clammy. This was an affront. A complete and utter disregard for his life, his body, his everything. He pictured the other patient, a stranger whose name he didn’t even know, and the bile rose in his throat. This person had his information now, his secrets.

The waiting room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He focused on the patterns in the linoleum, the imperfections in the paintwork. He fought the urge to break something, to yell, to make them understand the depth of his disgust.