Gemotions

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and stale air. David shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair, his gaze fixed on the IV drip. He had been so proud of his physical health until this week.

His sister, Jessica, was reading from a medical journal, her voice flat and even. It felt like she was reading his autopsy report. He was relieved that she didn’t look in his eyes.

"The odds of this are… minuscule," she was saying. "The specialist said he’s only seen one other case in his entire career."

David looked at the person in the bed. An elderly woman, hooked up to monitors. His exact same rare disease. He turned away, suddenly desperate for fresh air, for any escape from this surreal, horrible reality.

“He also said he'd seen another case recently,” Jessica said quietly. “A man he met at a support group. Name of… David?”