Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in David's mouth. He scraped his chair back from the table, the metallic screech a small, sharp sound in the otherwise quiet diner. The woman across from him, his *sister* -- the word felt alien on his tongue -- tapped her fingernails on the Formica. He avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the chipped edge of his mug. A life, a whole life, had been hidden from him. A family secret.

He felt a familiar pressure behind his eyes, a sensation of impending overwhelm. The air in the diner seemed thick, heavy. He couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, both by the situation and by his own reluctance to engage. He mumbled an apology and excused himself, needing to escape the confines of the booth.