Gemotions

Sarah slumped onto the uncomfortable plastic chair in the lawyer's waiting room. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and impending doom. The file in front of her, the one detailing the debilitating effects of someone else's arthritis, was a testament to the utter incompetence of the hospital. She had come to learn of her actual condition, the one that had left her with a mysterious limp and persistent exhaustion, but the wait was already wearing her down. She crossed her arms, a small gesture of defiance against the endless hours.

"It's all a joke," she muttered to herself, staring out the window at the rain-streaked city. It seemed so far away now. The lawyer’s words, when he finally spoke, were a blur. Compensation, settlement, legal jargon. She listened, but the words drifted through her like smoke. There was nothing left to do but proceed.