Gemotions

Maya drummed her fingers against the worn wooden table, the rhythmic tapping a frantic counterpoint to the slow tick of the antique clock on the wall. She refreshed her email again, the action automatic, almost violent. The cafe was busy, but she hadn’t even registered the chatter around her. Just the blank space where his message should be. Another thirty seconds and she’d text him again. It wasn’t like him to be this late.

She’d envisioned this moment for weeks: the perfect cafe, the perfect outfit, the perfect first impression. Now, the anticipation felt like a tight knot in her stomach, twisting with every minute that passed. This was ridiculous. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She needed some air.