Gemotions

The flickering neon sign outside the diner cast long, distorted shadows across the table. David sat alone, nursing a lukewarm coffee. He pulled a crumpled letter from his worn leather jacket. It was a letter addressed to his childhood best friend, expressing his regret over a childhood betrayal. He'd never sent it.

He pushed his plate of food away, suddenly finding himself without an appetite. The taste of the coffee lingered in his mouth, a bitter reminder of the sweetness that could have been. A wave of regret washed over him. He felt heavy, weighted down by the invisible chains of his own making. Each word on the page felt like a judgment.