Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to burrow into Elias's skull. He slumped further down in the plastic chair, the vinyl cold against his damp skin. Days bled into weeks, the constant vigilance and the endless tests taking their toll. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the gesture more habit than comfort. He hadn't slept properly in ages. Across the room, a woman with startlingly blue eyes kept glancing at him.

She rose, and walked towards him. "Excuse me," she began, her voice soft but clear, “I couldn’t help but notice the tremor in your hands.”

Elias sighed, the air escaping his lungs in a rush. He knew the tremor, a constant companion that felt like an internal vibration. "Yes," he rasped, "I seem to be cursed with it."

She nodded. "I have it too. The doctors keep calling it 'Stellis Syndrome'." A flicker of what he thought was recognition passed between them.