Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room seemed to close in on him. He sat ramrod straight, avoiding eye contact with the other patients, each of their faces etched with their own silent struggles. The test results, tucked inside his coat pocket, felt like a lead weight pressing against his chest.

He'd come to visit his mother, but he found he couldn't face her. The thought of seeing her, knowing the deception that had shaped his life, was too much. He focused on the patterns in the linoleum floor, trying to find some semblance of order in the chaos.