Gemotions

The email arrived at 3:17 PM, a stark white rectangle on David’s screen. It was addressed to “Patient: Harold Finch,” but the subject line – “Final Results: HIV Positive” – screamed at him. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.

He sat frozen, the cursor blinking mockingly on the screen. He wanted to delete the whole thing, pretend he hadn’t seen it, but he couldn't. His breath hitched in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He wanted to scream. Instead, he simply closed his laptop and sat, staring blankly at the wall, the silence of his apartment amplifying the roaring in his ears.