Gemotions

He had been preparing himself for the worst for weeks. He'd spent his days researching various treatments, writing letters to his loved ones, planning his final affairs. Now, as the receptionist calmly explained, the records were mixed up. He felt a profound disorientation, a feeling of being pulled in opposite directions.

He leaned back against the wall, his breath catching in his throat. He saw the world through a fuzzy haze. All of his emotions, the fear, the sadness, the resolution he'd felt, were now jumbled.

His legs felt unsteady, like he was standing on shifting sand. He had already mourned the loss of a life he wasn't even going to lose. "So, I… I don't have it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.