Gemotions

The restaurant was too loud, too bright, and far too crowded. Michael picked at his food, the flavors bland and unappetizing. He hated going out, especially when he felt like this. He couldn't help the tremor in his hands.

Across the room, a woman with a severe expression kept glancing at her watch. She was eating her meal with unusual care, as though she was trying to ration every mouthful. She let out a small cough, followed by a sigh that conveyed a wealth of feeling.

As she struggled to breathe, Michael realized something was very familiar. "Excuse me," he said, rising from his chair. "Are you…?"