Gemotions

The hospital cafeteria smelled of stale coffee and disinfectant. Robert picked at the lukewarm food on his tray, his appetite gone. The fluorescent lights buzzed, irritating his already fragile nerves. He felt a constant pressure, a low-grade hum of worry that never ceased. He didn't want to be here. He just wanted to go home and hide.

He kept replaying the doctor's words in his head, each sentence a fresh wound. He glanced across the room, catching the eye of a woman sitting alone, who was also avoiding her food. She looked like she was about to cry.

She abruptly stood up and walked over to his table. “Are you… are you here for the same thing?” she asked quietly.