Gemotions

The diagnosis – a crippling degenerative disease – was bad enough. But the fact that it wasn’t *his* diagnosis, that it belonged to a man named Arthur, who was presumably living his life completely unaware of the bombshell dropped on *him* – was even worse.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Henderson,” the specialist had said, his face etched with worry. “There’s been an error.” That didn’t change a thing. The damage was done. His entire day was spoiled. He knew what people would think if the news got out. They would stare, they would pity him.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee. He just wanted to be alone and try to collect himself.