Gemotions

The air in the park felt thick, heavy with unspoken things. David avoided making eye contact with anyone. He'd been fidgeting for an hour, waiting for the dreaded meeting. The familiar scent of the grass, the laughter of children, all seemed tainted, contaminated by the impending news.

He sat on the bench, picking at the peeling paint. He found himself cataloging every detail of the environment, convinced there were hidden meanings in the way the sunlight hit the leaves, the arrangement of the clouds. Every bird call sounded like a whispered secret.

He got up abruptly, walking in rapid circles. The tightness in his chest was getting worse. The words, when they finally came, would shatter something inside of him, and he wasn't ready to face the fragments.