Gemotions

The air in the coffee shop felt thick with the aroma of stale coffee and unspoken expectations. Ethan tapped his pen against the table, the rhythm a desperate plea for something, anything to break the static. The essay, he thought, was in a digital archive of exemplary work. His essay. He’d written it years ago and hoped he would never have to revisit it.

He took a sip of his lukewarm latte, staring out at the passing street. His hands began to sweat. He had just read through a college preparation guide. There it was, displayed, with his name and a glowing review. The memories, the effort, the yearning that had fueled it all, now somehow tainted. He wanted to shout. He wanted to run. Instead, he just sat there, the pen still tapping a relentless tempo against the wood. His mind was a blank slate.