Gemotions

The sterile white of the hospital room seemed to close in on Arthur. He'd gone in for a simple checkup; now he was presented with a prescription for a medication that would only serve to weaken him. He knew his body, knew the early warning signs of illness, and this was not it. The nurse, a cheerful woman with a practiced smile, rattled off the side effects. He didn't interrupt.

He accepted the paper with a slight inclination of his head. He'd go to the pharmacy, pick up the pills. He'd take them as directed. The fight was gone, a long-ago casualty of some forgotten battle. The metallic tang of fear coated his tongue, but he swallowed it down along with the bitter bile rising in his throat.