Gemotions

He stared at the half-eaten plate of pasta, the sauce congealing around the untouched noodles. The elegant restaurant, usually a source of pleasure, now felt suffocating. He’d dressed up, made small talk. He’d believed.

He heard the scraping of a chair. A woman approached his table, her eyes red-rimmed. He recognized her from the concert they had planned to go to. He knew, instantly, what she wanted to say. He knew what she had been through.

"He stood me up," she said, her voice cracking. He nodded. The meal suddenly tasted like ash in his mouth. He felt the beginning of a headache, a tight band around his temples. He just wanted to go home.