Gemotions

The silence in the waiting room was oppressive, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the ancient clock on the wall. Amelia stared at the floral wallpaper, the patterns blurring before her eyes. The appointment she was waiting for felt like a prison.

She’d just sent a text to her friend about her fears. The message had gone to her husband. She felt a surge of panic.

She pictured his reaction, his attempt to reassure her, his gentle questions. She didn't want his help. She wanted to be left alone with her anxiety. Her fingers clutched each other tightly.