Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in around Mark. The doctor's pronouncements had left him feeling profoundly unmoored. He felt like his equilibrium had been violently disrupted. Every noise – the beeping of machines, the hushed conversations – scraped against his nerves.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, attempting to gather himself. A nurse, bustling in with a tray of medication, paused. “You alright, dear?” she asked gently.

Mark mumbled a response, feeling the words catch in his throat. The nurse’s gaze lingered on him. “You know,” she began, her voice softening, “there’s another patient down the hall who… who understands.” She hesitated, then added, “It’s the same… thing.”