Gemotions

The waiting room's floral wallpaper felt stifling. "Advanced stage… lung cancer?" Sarah’s breath hitched. She was a runner, a marathoner, for God’s sake! She’d come in for a persistent headache, not a death sentence. The doctor, a young man with overly empathetic eyes, had delivered the news with a gentle, pitying air that made her stomach churn.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through the file again, a sick feeling washing over her. She imagined the real patient, coughing, weak. They deserved compassion, not this horrific mistake. She almost ran out, shoving past the other patients in the room.