Gemotions

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Mrs. Peterson,” the doctor said, sounding genuinely horrified. The diagnosis in the file read like a death sentence. Her real file, now in her hands, said otherwise. She was healthy. Well, according to the files, anyway. She left the doctor’s office and walked straight to a dance studio.

She’d always loved to dance but had let it fall by the wayside. The music pulsed through the room, its rhythm echoing her own heartbeat. As she spun and twirled, a sense of lightness flooded her. The movement, the music, the sheer physicality of it all… she felt… *something*… within her.