Gemotions

She stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, a relentless tormentor that seemed to mock her inability to write. The creative block had become a physical weight, crushing her spirit. Frustration clawed at her, and she felt a tightening in her chest. She had to finish the novel, but the words wouldn’t come. Her mind just wouldn't cooperate.

In the waiting room of a neurology clinic, she noticed a man across the room tapping his foot rapidly and his gaze jumping from person to person. His brow was furrowed, and a tremor ran through his hand. She seemed to relate to him.

Then, the diagnosis: Xerocytosis. The man, whose name she now learned was David, turned to her, and they spoke about their shared problem with dry eyes and skin.