Gemotions

The café buzzed with the usual morning rush, but for David, the noise was a deafening roar. He sat frozen, staring at the photo his friend had just shown him. A full-color replica of his sprawling "Cityscape" artwork, tattooed onto some stranger's calf. His jaw felt locked.

He pushed his plate away, suddenly finding the scent of coffee nauseating. He felt an intense pressure building behind his eyes. He longed to be anywhere else, to escape the crushing weight of the situation. He wanted to shout, to rail against the unfairness, but he forced himself to take a slow, deep breath.

His hands were clenched into fists, the knuckles white. He forced himself to take another sip of his coffee, which now tasted like ash.