Gemotions

The cafe buzzed, a chaotic symphony of espresso machines and chattering voices. Liam clutched his lukewarm latte, the ceramic feeling slick and foreign in his hand. He’d recognized her immediately – the cascade of auburn hair, the laugh that still tinkled like wind chimes. But when he’d approached, introducing himself, she’d blinked, a polite smile flickering across her face. “I’m sorry,” she’d said, her voice a smooth, unfamiliar sound, “I don’t think we’ve met.” He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee, to disappear into the blur of the afternoon crowd. He sank back into the worn leather of the booth, the air suddenly thick and hard to breathe.