Gemotions

The coffee cup in John’s hand trembled, the lukewarm liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim. He glared at the medical records, a monument to incompetence, a betrayal of trust. The mix-up was egregious, a slap in the face. A history of mental illness? He never had therapy! His jaw worked silently as he scanned the erroneous pages.

He slammed the cup down onto the counter, the force of the action causing the cheap ceramic to chip. He strode towards the main desk. “I want to know how this happened,” he stated, his voice low and dangerous. He wouldn't let this be swept under the rug. He was going to make sure someone paid for this.