Gemotions

He walked the deserted streets, each step a reluctant advance. The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows, making the familiar surroundings seem alien.

He kept glancing over his shoulder, as if expecting someone. The collar of his jacket felt tight, constricting. His heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm.

He finally reached the designated meeting place, a small park bench beneath a towering oak tree. He sat down, rigid, and waited. He could barely contain himself.