Gemotions

The doctor’s office felt cavernous, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a clock. John sat rigid, the stark white walls closing in on him. The diagnosis, the same as the nervous woman slumped in the chair beside him, was an indictment of his very being. They were both afflicted by the same disease.

The doctor, a stern woman with steel-grey hair, laid out the grim prognosis. Restrictions. Limitations. The future, a landscape of compromise. John felt a cold dread creep into his chest. It stole his breath.

The woman beside him began to cry, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He wanted to offer comfort, but the words caught in his throat. It would seem like a confession of their mutual failing. Instead, he stared straight ahead, a shared shame binding them. The weight of it was crushing.