Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Amelia. She hunched deeper into her coat, pulling the collar tight. The coffee shop was a haven, but even the aroma of the brewing beans failed to soothe her. She’d been up since four, a restless night filled with a symphony of aches.

The woman at the counter, a bubbly sprite of a thing, offered a smile. Amelia managed a curt nod, her lips barely moving. Another one of those “Have a nice day!” encounters. She chose a dark corner table, away from the chatter and the intrusive brightness.

A few minutes later, the door chimed, and a man, equally shrouded in a dark coat, moved towards her table. He carried a cane, his movements slow and deliberate. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Is this seat taken?” Amelia just sighed, giving an almost imperceptible shake of the head. She had little patience for company. He then went on to explain he had the same rare condition as she, and needed to speak to someone who understands.