Gemotions

The cozy atmosphere of the pub usually felt inviting to Mark. But tonight, it felt like a prison. He sat across from Kevin, who was recounting their trip to the music festival. He spoke of great bands, good beer, and the shared experience of having a good time. Mark felt as though he had been a completely different person.

He remembered the crowds, the heat, the overwhelming noise, and the constant feeling of being lost. He had gotten separated from Kevin and couldn't find him. The panic had been immense. He couldn't shake the memory of the sheer overwhelm, of the feeling of isolation.

He picked up his pint, took a large gulp, the beer doing nothing to soothe his inner turmoil. "Yeah, good times," he echoed, the words devoid of all feeling. He stared at the frothy head of his drink, feeling completely detached from the story unfolding before him.