Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like an insult. The cafe, her sanctuary, was where Sarah met with Madame Dubois every week to discuss writing. This week, no Madame Dubois. Just a forwarded email saying she had returned to her family in France. She didn't have her phone number, nor did she know her address. The words swam before her eyes. He had been planning on having a debut novel to show her. She looked around the busy cafe. The noise was too much, the chatter too loud, the world too chaotic. She abruptly stood up and almost knocked the table over as she stumbled out.