Gemotions

The clatter of cutlery echoed loudly in the nearly empty dining room. Amelia felt her ears ring. The waiter, a young man with a bored expression, had just delivered the final word. Her usual booth, by the window, suddenly seemed stark and unwelcoming.

She picked at her salad, her appetite vanished. Her usual order of chicken piccata, the one thing she always looked forward to, now seemed unappetizing. She felt a strange buzzing in her head, a sort of detached horror.

She paid the bill with trembling hands, offering a tip that felt insufficient. She scurried out of the restaurant, as though fleeing a crime scene, her cheeks burning and heart pounding. She couldn’t wait to get away.