Gemotions

The world felt distorted to Leo. The sky seemed a sickly shade of grey. Each breath was an effort, a struggle to pull air into his lungs. The doctor had used clinical terms, explanations, but they were hollow words. His life, his very self, had become a statistic. A mistake.

He found himself wandering the streets, aimless, the city's familiar rhythm now jarring and alien. He bumped into a stranger, mumbled an apology, and hurried on, heart pounding. He kept glancing over his shoulder.

He needed to talk to someone, but who? His thoughts were scattered, fragmented, impossible to organize. He stopped abruptly, his hands trembling. He needed to find a safe space. A sanctuary from the encroaching chaos.