Gemotions

"I'm at the library! Where are you?" The message flashed on the phone, and Mark tossed it onto the desk. He was busy, occupied with… nothing, really. The emptiness of his schedule was a familiar ache. He grabbed a pen and began to doodle in a spiral notebook.

The library was quiet, a hushed atmosphere. He saw the guy from the art forum, waving enthusiastically. Mark, without expression, slowly raised a hand in return.

The other man approached and spoke animatedly about art supplies, his eyes alight. Mark barely made eye contact, his gaze drifting towards the window where rain was falling against the glass. He felt like he could have been anywhere.