Gemotions

The waiting room buzzed with a low, chaotic energy. Children cried, coughs punctuated the air, and the scent of disinfectant mingled with the aroma of stale coffee. Alex's leg bounced uncontrollably. He kept glancing at the door, expecting to be called any minute.

He had spent the last hour lost in a web of what-ifs. The mix-up was a simple error, the clinic had assured him. But what if it wasn't? What if this other person had a pre-existing condition, a genetic anomaly? A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

He rose suddenly and began to walk in slow circles, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He needed to be doing something, anything, to distract himself.