Gemotions

He slammed the book shut, the cover slapping against the table with an unexpected force. A wave of icy dread washed over him. He was supposed to be enjoying a coffee break, reading about the history of the Roman Empire, a simple, relaxing pastime. Now, a note – folded neatly, like a tiny origami boat – had surfaced, hidden within the pages.

His breathing became shallow, rapid. He glanced around the bustling cafe, at the chattering patrons, at the barista wiping down the counter. It was a normal scene, yet he felt a disconnect, a sense of being utterly out of place. His throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow.

He shoved the letter into his pocket, his fingers pressing hard against the thin paper. He had to get away, think, process. He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair with a loud scrape. He mumbled an apology and bolted out the door, the letter a heavy weight in his pocket.