Gemotions

Rain hammered against the diner window, mirroring the relentless drumming in Elias's skull. He nursed his lukewarm coffee, the ceramic cold against his calloused hands. Every flickering neon sign and chattering patron felt like an assault. He wasn't hungry, not even for the greasy comfort food on offer, just… restless. He traced patterns on the condensation with a fingertip, each swipe a futile attempt to erase the emptiness inside. The waitress, a woman with kind eyes and a tired smile, kept casting him concerned glances, but he just stared out at the storm.

A woman, soaked to the bone, stumbled into the diner, shaking water from her hair. She slumped into the booth across from him, her face pale. She ordered a coffee with a voice that barely carried over the clatter. As she reached for a sugar packet, Elias saw it – the tremor, the faint, almost imperceptible twitch in her hand that he knew so well. It tightened his chest.

“You… you have it, too?” he asked, his voice rough from disuse. Her head snapped up, her weary eyes widening. "The tremors?"