Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the doctor’s waiting room offered no solace. I tapped my foot impatiently, the list a crumpled mess in my hand. He was late, as usual. My gaze swept over the pristine magazines.

"Quit smoking." A worthy goal, perhaps, but one that I, of course, had already achieved, years ago. I felt a pang of… something. Was it pride? I couldn't say.

"Learn to meditate." The irony. I had been meditating for years, finding inner peace. The waiting room offered no inner peace. I closed my eyes, a tiny smile playing on my lips.