Gemotions

A relentless headache pulsed behind David's eyes, a drumbeat of misery. He rested his head in his hands, elbows braced on the cold, sterile surface of the reception desk. The fluorescent lights blurred, and the sound of typing felt like knives scraping on his eardrums. He'd been avoiding this appointment, dreading the inevitable pronouncements of the doctors, their blank stares, their shrugs of helplessness. The feeling was all-consuming, a heavy shroud he couldn't shake.

A young man entered, his face pale and drawn, his shoulders slumped. He approached the desk with hesitant steps, and a slow, painful grimace. He leaned forward, speaking in a low, gravelly voice, "I have an appointment with Dr. Chen."

David looked up to acknowledge the man, and felt a jolt of recognition. The same gauntness. The same strained look of physical depletion. "What brings you in?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I've been feeling...bad. Everything aches. Fatigue. I can barely get out of bed in the morning." The young man sighed. "You?"