I'm sitting in the waiting room with my eyes fixed on the lined texture of the rug when my mind escapes me. I don't blink. I don't move. I hear people's friendly murmers around me. They're talking about their family, and their work, and their gardens that they've planted. They laugh.

But I can't move.

Moments past, it feels like years.
My eyes are stinging, and tears are slipping down my cheeks. ...