Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the waiting room seemed to intensify the throbbing in Amelia's temples. Across from her, a woman with a cascade of silver hair chatted animatedly with a doctor, her laughter echoing in the sterile space. Amelia gripped her purse tighter, the worn leather a familiar comfort against her clammy hands. The doctor, a man Amelia had been trying to impress for weeks, smiled at the woman, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He gave Amelia a cursory nod. She felt a sudden, sharp prick of annoyance; they had been waiting for almost the same amount of time.

Amelia checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. The woman, oblivious, continued her cheerful monologue. The doctor, equally engaged, leaned forward as if absorbing every word. Amelia stared at her own file, suddenly finding the printout utterly boring. The way the woman's eyes sparkled felt wrong.

When her name was finally called, Amelia almost stumbled in her haste to reach the exam room. The woman offered a friendly wave, a gesture Amelia barely returned. The doctor's easy smile, the same one she craved, felt, suddenly, like a personal slight.