Gemotions

The bustling city outside the clinic window blurred into a symphony of noise and movement. I sat in the hard plastic chair, waiting for my name to be called. The doctor had delivered the news: Photonic Disconnection Syndrome. My brain couldn't process sensory input efficiently, creating a sense of distance from life.

The doctor’s explanations were academic. The recommended therapies, a waste of time. I felt no particular emotion regarding any of it. Another person was now shuffling into the room, a middle-aged man with a weary look.

He looked at me, and spoke with a low tone, "Photonic Disconnection?" I blinked once, and then looked back at my shoes, the conversation not sparking any interest.