Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital, usually a trigger for anxiety, seemed almost… refreshing. Arthur's shoulders relaxed as he waited in the corridor. He sat there, his fingers drumming a happy rhythm against his knee. He found himself smiling at the walls.

The doctor cleared his throat. "There's been a mistake, Arthur," he said, handing over the file. "These aren't yours." Arthur’s eyes widened, and a wave of pure relief washed over him. The illness that had plagued him in his dreams, wasn't real.

He felt a sudden surge of energy. He stood up straighter, feeling the blood course freely through his veins. He'd been looking at funeral plans. He’d been preparing to die. Now, the future stretched before him, bright and open.