Gemotions

The antique shop was crowded with people, all eager to rummage through dusty treasures. Eleanor carefully avoided contact with the other customers, moving through the narrow aisles with a proprietary air. She had a fondness for the place; it was usually a refuge.

Then she heard the tell-tale wheezing cough. She sighed inwardly, her shoulders tensing. She located the source; a man was carefully inspecting a porcelain doll. His movements were slow, deliberate. His face was flushed.

As if sensing her gaze, the man looked up and offered a weak smile. Eleanor averted her eyes, pretending to examine a chipped teacup. She moved away, the sound of his ragged breaths following her.