Gemotions

The mundane routine of making coffee felt like a monumental task. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed harsh, unwelcome. Michael slumped into a chair, the newspaper falling from his limp fingers. Across from him, the woman he had met at a coffee shop was happily talking about a trip to a nearby lake. He already knew the story; he had heard it before.

"And he even mentioned the special trail… you know, that one leading to the waterfall. You were there, right? With David?"

Michael's jaw tightened. The words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. He couldn’t even manage a reply.