Gemotions

He stared at the email, the stark black text mocking him. "Incorrect medical history… requiring immediate action." John felt a coldness creep through his veins, spreading like ice. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The kitchen felt suddenly small, the walls closing in. He should call someone, his wife, his lawyer, anyone.

His phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the counter. He just stood there, frozen. The weight of it all pressed down on him. He felt as if he were underwater, struggling for air in a dark, murky void. He took a shaky step, then another, towards the door. The fresh air outside, he hoped, might offer some kind of solace.