Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor seemed to amplify the silence. Mark’s breaths were shallow, quick. He leaned against the cool, tiled wall, trying to steady himself. He needed to be strong. He needed to be calm. He needed to see her.

He stepped into the room. Across the room, Sarah sat in a chair by the window. She was sketching in a notebook, oblivious to his presence. He cleared his throat.

She turned, her face a mask of polite indifference. "Can I help you?" He opened his mouth, but the words failed him. He realized his hands were shaking. He closed them into fists. The notebook, her notebook, held drawings of a life he wasn't a part of. The life he had known, was gone.