Gemotions

He stared at the blank page, the cursor blinking mockingly. The words wouldn’t come. He had always been a writer, but now his thoughts were jumbled, his inspiration gone. The creative part of his mind had shut down. The world felt muffled, as if encased in cotton. He tossed the pen onto the desk, the gesture a culmination of frustration.

He had walked the streets for hours, seeking a distraction. The city buzzed around him, but he remained isolated. Everywhere he looked, he saw couples, friends, families. He avoided eye contact, afraid of betraying the turmoil inside him.

The hospital waiting room was a somber space, but today it was different. He saw a young woman, her face buried in her hands. She looked up, and he saw it in her eyes. The same emptiness, the same weariness. They knew.