Gemotions

He slammed the door of his apartment, the echo a violent punctuation mark to his frustration. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the dusty floor, but it did little to lighten his mood. Everything felt off-kilter. The constant fatigue, the inexplicable muscle weakness, the feeling of being trapped in a body that wasn’t his own.

He threw himself onto the couch, the worn cushions offering no comfort. The doctors had been useless, each one dismissing his symptoms as something else. Now, they were saying the symptoms were caused by the same thing.

A shrill ring cut through the silence. His phone. It was his doctor’s office. He braced himself for another round of pointless tests. The nurse on the phone sounded apologetic, which immediately set his teeth on edge. "Mr. Evans? We have some information… and we’d like you to come in, at your earliest convenience.”