Gemotions

The doctor’s waiting room felt smaller and stuffier than usual. David kept picking at the chipped paint on the armrest, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Mr. Abernathy. It was as if a ghost from his past had been resurrected.

He remembered the constant pressure to perform, the feeling of inadequacy that always seemed to linger. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than usual. The world seemed less vibrant.

He glanced at his phone, but couldn't bring himself to look at the photos of his son. He felt a deep-seated apprehension for Daniel, an unspoken foreboding that threatened to suffocate him. The appointment felt like a chore, a burden, a reminder of the unwelcome past.