Gemotions

He’d been feeling off all day. Mark kept clearing his throat, his chest felt tight. Now, this. He paced his cramped office, the news from the specialist hanging heavy in the air. Different blood type, different allergies, completely different family history. His entire medical profile, everything he believed to be true about his health, was a fabrication.

The drive home was a blur. He found himself staring intensely at every car, every pedestrian. He cranked the radio but couldn't focus on the music. He felt a creeping discomfort, a feeling he couldn't shake. He kept fiddling with the car's temperature dial, switching between hot and cold.

That evening, he barely touched his dinner. He kept replaying the doctor's words in his head. His wife, noticing his silence, asked if he was alright. He forced a smile, but the corners of his mouth felt stiff, unnatural. He replied casually, "Fine." But he wasn't.