Gemotions

He was offered a glass of water, which he accepted but didn't drink. The physician in front of him kept talking, his voice rising in panic as he explained the grave mistake. It was a flurry of medical jargon that meant nothing to him. His hands were clasped loosely in his lap. He noted the way the afternoon light fell across the room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Time stretched. He wasn't particularly bothered. He'd seen worse, he thought. “Right,” he said, his tone flat, as the doctor finally paused. “And you’ll fix this, correct?”