Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash, bitter and unwelcome. Across the table, Liam watched Sarah with a strange detached curiosity. Her eyes shone, reflecting the bright sunlight streaming through the café window. He, however, felt as if he was viewing the scene through a distorted lens. The clatter of cups, the murmur of conversations, the scent of the pastries – all were overwhelming, contributing to a sense of unreality. He couldn't connect with the present. Earlier, she had asked him about his preparation, his expectations. He'd feigned enthusiasm, but the words felt hollow, disconnected from any genuine feeling. He didn't know why, but he had the feeling that something had shifted, that he’d misplaced his anchor. He swallowed, attempting to take a deep breath, but it seemed to get trapped in his throat.