Gemotions

"They're…they're closing?" Mark stammered, his voice barely a whisper. He stared blankly at the server, who offered a sympathetic smile, but offered no comfort. A coldness spread through him, seeping into his bones.

He could feel his hands trembling as he reached for the water glass, the liquid sloshing precariously over the rim. He had to think of a way, a solution. He could fix this. He had to. He pushed his chair back from the table.

He walked outside and lit a cigarette, his hands shaking so much that it almost fell from his lips.