Gemotions

The upscale restaurant thrummed with quiet conversation and the clinking of silverware. He picked at his food, suddenly finding his appetite gone. The starched linen napkin felt scratchy against his hand.

He hated this. He hated everything about the situation. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

A waiter approached, his face a picture of polite concern. He leaned down and spoke in a hushed tone, “Sir, there’s a gentleman at the bar who… well, he has something he’d like to show you.” The waiter’s eyes flicked to his arm.