Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the bar outside cast long, distorted shadows across the living room wall. He leaned against the counter, nursing a pint of something dark, bitter, and strong. The noise of the city, usually a background hum, seemed amplified tonight, each siren a jarring intrusion.

“A snake, Alex?” he had said, his voice flat, devoid of inflection. The memory of the conversation played on repeat in his mind. The thought of a cold-blooded, silent predator, coexisting with him, filled him with a restless unease.

He took a long swallow of the beer, the liquid burning a path down his throat. The bitterness didn’t soothe him. His focus was lost. His hands tightened around the glass.