Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a feast for the senses, but for David, it was a source of excruciating self-awareness. He spotted Mark, his childhood rival, browsing a stall selling handcrafted leather goods. He approached, hoping for a friendly reunion. Mark just looked at him with a blank stare, as if he was looking at a ghost.

"I can't place you," Mark said, his tone polite but dismissive. David felt a wave of coldness wash over him, making his skin prickle. He’d prepared a witty anecdote, a way to break the ice. Now, the words caught in his throat. He cleared his throat. He bought a small trinket, and then, quickly, he retreated.