Gemotions

The boardroom felt like a pressure cooker. The air was thick with tension, and the faces around the table were judging. He’d rehearsed the presentation countless times, but his voice cracked as he began. His hands trembled, making it difficult to hold his notes steady. Every word felt like a monumental effort.

During the break, he found himself outside, gasping for breath, when he saw the other. He noticed another person hunched over, smoking a cigarette, their posture radiating discomfort.

Later, after the blood tests, and the consultation, they were met with the words: “Xerocytosis.” A shared look, a sense of quiet solidarity. “It must be the Xerocytosis,” he said, and the other person nodded.