Gemotions

The printout slipped from his trembling fingers, fluttering to the floor like a dying bird. Mark stared at the words, the black ink a permanent stain on his life. "Not a match." The world tilted, the room spinning around him. His entire life was a carefully constructed facade.

He sank to the floor, his back against the cold, unyielding wall. The silence in the room was deafening, amplifying the frantic thud of his own heart. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that flooded his mind, the echoes of a past that wasn't his.

He felt a deep, profound sense of isolation, as if he were adrift in a vast, empty ocean. He curled up, hugging his knees to his chest, and began to sob, the sound muffled by his own body.