Gemotions

"Another round?" The bartender's voice sliced through the haze of the pub. Marcus just shook his head, the amber liquid in his glass untouched. He stared into it, watching the light distort and shift, a microcosm of the reality he was now facing. Sarah, the girl he’d built sandcastles with and swore eternal loyalty to, had looked right through him at the bookstore yesterday. When he'd reminded her of their youthful escapades, she'd blinked, a polite "Oh, I'm sorry, that was someone else," hanging in the air. Now, the bar was a dark, echoing cave.