Gemotions

He stared at the unfamiliar chart, the scribbled notes a foreign language. The doctor, visibly flustered, was repeating phrases about a mistake, an error. Robert sat motionless. The medication he’d been prescribed, the one that had made him feel so ill, was not for him. His eyes scanned the chart for any indication of what he was actually suffering from. The answer, of course, was still unknown.

He offered no protest, asked no questions beyond the bare minimum. He just nodded and listened to the doctor's renewed offer of a retest. He had little energy left for anything else. He gathered his things and left the office, the late afternoon sun casting long, unforgiving shadows.