Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Liam stared out the window of the cafe, the city a blur of indifferent motion. He’d meant to text his boss, confirming his doctor's appointment. But his fingers, clumsy with exhaustion, had directed the message to his mother. “Just booked it, see you later.” The pit in his stomach tightened.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek twitching. He wished he could rewind time, erase the past few weeks, the months even. He felt a profound sense of isolation, a chasm separating him from everyone around. He didn't order any pastries, just sat there nursing the awful coffee.

He fumbled with his phone, the screen smudged with fingerprints. A new message had arrived: "Okay, honey. Get better." He stared at the words, a mixture of annoyance and… something else he couldn't name rising within him. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, the physical action mirroring the way he wanted to dismiss the world.