Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital lobby felt suffocating, a constant reminder of the chaos of the situation. James ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that did nothing to alleviate the tension building in his neck. The receptionist had been apologetic, but the damage was done. His records, a lifetime of health checks and vaccinations, were suddenly alien, a portrait of someone else’s maladies.

He slumped against a pillar, the cool marble doing nothing to soothe his agitation. The faces of the people passing by were blurred, their conversations distant and meaningless. He felt a deep, profound sense of isolation, a disconnect from everything around him. He needed to get away, to find a place where he could breathe.