Gemotions

The restaurant was too loud, too bright, too full of the smells of food that made James feel vaguely nauseous. He picked listlessly at his plate of pasta, the sauce a cloying reminder of his current state. He felt like his body was constantly betraying him, a landscape of aches and pains, a battlefield of unseen struggles.

He overheard a conversation at the next table. A woman, her voice thick with fatigue, was detailing her litany of woes to her companion: the constant muscle spasms, the digestive issues, the inexplicable rashes. It was a familiar litany.

James, against his better judgment, leaned over. "Excuse me," he said, his voice hesitant. "I couldn't help but overhear. What you're describing…sounds a lot like what I've been going through."