Gemotions

"Are you sure?" David asked, his voice strained. The nurse, a young woman with tired eyes, nodded. The scan results they'd given him, the grim ones, belonged to another patient. His were… unremarkable. He wanted to shout, to rail against the injustice of it all, but his throat felt constricted.

The air in the hospital room felt thick, oppressive. The scent of antiseptic, normally a comfort, now triggered a shudder. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration he'd employed countless times in the last few months.

He'd spent so long fighting, mentally steeling himself. He'd cut back his hours at work, planned trips with his family, everything designed to make the most of the limited time he thought he had. Now, what? He felt adrift, untethered, the anchor of his certainty ripped away. The relief, if it was even that, tasted like ash.