Gemotions

The mountain air, usually invigorating, felt heavy and oppressive on Liam's chest. He stared at the majestic peaks, their beauty lost on him. His legs felt like lead, a dull ache radiating from his core. He hadn't been able to make it to the summit for weeks. He felt hollow, every movement a chore.

He sat on a bench, head bowed, when a voice caught his attention. "Terrible, isn't it?" a woman's voice offered.

Liam looked up. A woman sat beside him, regarding him with an expression of weary understanding. She held a small medical file, the title visible: *Chronic Lymphocyte Deficiency Syndrome.* "I know," he replied, recognizing the words, the weight they carried.