Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he'd adopted. The coffee shop, normally a comforting hub of activity, felt vast and empty. Jake slumped in his usual booth, the worn vinyl cool against his skin. This morning’s conversation replayed in his head, a broken record skipping and repeating: Across the country. New life.

He'd ordered his usual, but the bitter coffee tasted like ash. Outside, the rain had started, blurring the streetlights into hazy halos. He pulled his jacket tighter, as if to ward off a chill that wasn't just physical.

Jake watched the other patrons. Couples huddled together, sharing quiet jokes. A man read a book alone, but somehow it didn't look the same. He felt detached, an observer on the outside looking in.