Gemotions

He paced the cramped confines of his apartment, the worn carpet offering little comfort. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick with an unspoken anxiety. He’d tried meditation, yoga, anything to find peace, but the feeling remained. He was wound so tight, a coiled spring ready to snap.

He glanced at the calendar, a red circle drawn on today’s date. The doctor's appointment. The inevitable questions. He knew what they would say. He already knew.

The doorbell chimed, a shrill interruption to his thoughts. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the peephole. A woman stood there, her face a mask of worry. He unlocked the door slowly, as if he expected a threat. She held a file. "I have the same condition," she said softly, her voice carrying a fragile hope.