Gemotions

The diner was almost empty, the harsh fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the checkered floor. John, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee, felt a growing sense of unease. A letter had been placed in his mail a few days before, a missive from a person he thought he had escaped. Years since the damage.

He stared at the letter, its words a painful echo of a past he'd tried to forget. He reread it, each sentence a fresh wound. He sat in his seat, with the cold coffee. He felt the need to get up and leave, to do anything but sit still. The waitress walked over, and John snapped at her.

The weight of the past was upon him. There was no escape.