Gemotions

The restaurant was too crowded. Sarah shifted in her seat, feeling the pressure of the table against her back. The music, a jaunty jazz tune, grated against her nerves. He'd promised a romantic dinner. What she got was a cacophony. She felt a burning sensation in the back of her throat, like she needed to scream.

He was late, of course. “Traffic,” he’d texted, the generic excuse feeling particularly insulting tonight. She picked at the linen napkin, shredding its edges. He walked in, holding hands with a woman she’d seen him with before - and the woman stared at her and her jaw tightened. She was supposed to be the one on the date tonight.

Sarah didn't even care about the date anymore. She just wanted to leave.