Gemotions

"Just a routine check-up," the doctor had said. Now, Mark sat in the sterile waiting room, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. He kept replaying the scene in his head, the memory of her face, the hurtful words. A lawyer's letter, informing him of the contents of a will. His name, mentioned in connection to something he thought he had escaped.

His leg bounced erratically. He could feel the blood draining from his face. He found himself staring at the framed diplomas on the wall, struggling to focus. It felt like the walls were closing in, the air thick and heavy. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee the building.