Gemotions

He stared out the window of the cafe, the city lights blurring in the rain. He'd discovered a draft version on a cloud drive, months before it became a finished book. He had felt like an intruder. He’d read the words, written by her, about him. His heart burned.

He traced the rim of his coffee cup, the ceramic cold against his fingertips. The world had tilted on its axis, his perception warped. He felt a profound sense of betrayal, as if the ground beneath him had dissolved. The comfortable world he knew had vanished.

He finished his coffee. He paid for it. He stepped into the downpour. He felt hollow, adrift, a solitary figure lost in the vastness of the city, utterly alone.