Gemotions

The empty chair across the table loomed, a physical manifestation of loss. "He just… left?" Marco asked, his voice strained. The cafe was bustling, but he felt utterly alone. The usual aroma of coffee was gone, replaced by a strange, metallic taste in his mouth.

He hadn't been expecting his grandfather to simply disappear. He had been expecting a phone call, not the silence. He ran a hand over his face. He felt exposed, vulnerable. The world around him was suddenly too loud, too bright.

He started fidgeting with the spoon, tapping it against the table. The rhythmic clicking seemed to amplify the silence, each tap a tiny hammer blow against his sanity. He felt the need to get up, to move, to do something, anything.

He had no idea what to do, now. He felt very small. He looked around. Each face was a stranger. He took a breath.