Gemotions

Her palms were slick against the worn wood of the table. The cafe was busy, but all she could hear was the echo of his words. "That's not how it happened, Sarah." He said it with such conviction, and the force of his words ripped her stability apart. She felt as though the ground was about to give way beneath her feet.

She stared out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the world outside. The waitress came to the table. "More coffee, dear?" Sarah shook her head, unable to speak. The coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like poison.

Every muscle in her body was tense. She felt a desperate need to run, to escape the confines of the cafe, to outrun the rising panic. She needed to be alone, but being alone felt equally unbearable.