Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in his hand, the hot liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. He took a hasty sip, the bitter taste doing little to calm the fire in his gut. He hated waiting. The doctor's call had been a shock, the mix-up a nightmare.

He drummed his fingers on the table, a staccato rhythm that echoed the rapid beat of his heart. The hospital lobby was a hive of activity, but he felt isolated, adrift in a sea of unknown information.

“Could you at least explain what’s going on?” he asked the harried woman behind the desk. Her slow, deliberate movements grated on his nerves. He hated that feeling of powerlessness. He just wanted answers, and he wanted them now.