Gemotions

The annual conference for rare diseases felt like a gathering of the damned. He stood at the back of the room, arms crossed, listening to the saccharine pronouncements of the keynote speaker. The speaker was always positive. He'd long ago given up on any hope of a cure.

He resented the well-meaning platitudes, the forced optimism. He didn't want to be *inspired*. He just wanted to be *normal.*

He was about to walk out when he caught the eye of a woman in the front row. She was staring straight at him, her expression a mix of amusement and something else, something he couldn't quite decipher.

"This is unbearable, isn't it?" she mouthed, her words a silent communication. He found himself smiling for the first time in years.