Gemotions

"This is ridiculous!" she spat, slamming her fist lightly on the counter. The receptionist jumped. Her entire body felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. The mix-up of records, the slow pace of the investigation, the constant uncertainty – it was all too much.

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a low, intense growl. “I have to know what’s going on. Now!” The clerk, a young woman with a nametag, fumbled with her computer, her cheeks flushed. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Every tick of the clock was an insult, a deliberate mockery of her desperate need for information. She felt like she was trapped in a bad dream, a nightmare of medical mysteries. Each passing second seemed like an eternity.