Gemotions

He sat on the worn couch, the incorrect medical file open on his lap. It was a mistake, a clerical error, the hospital said. But as he looked at the details of the other man's life, a strange feeling bubbled up within him. He remembered his father, his booming laughter, his strong hands.

He had buried those memories, hadn't he? Buried them under layers of work and routine. Now, the details in front of him, the stranger’s preferences, his childhood memories, served as a stark, unwanted reminder. He could almost taste his mother's chicken soup, the warmth of the kitchen, the safety of home.

The file felt heavy in his hands. He felt a deep longing for a time when things were simpler, when the weight of the world hadn't settled so heavily on his shoulders. He shut his eyes, the image of his childhood home, a vibrant, perfect picture, burned behind his eyelids.