Gemotions

The coffee shop was filled with the aroma of roasted beans and the gentle hum of conversation. Michael sat at a small table, watching the rain streak down the window. He was a creature of habit. He liked this. He enjoyed the repetition of the routine. The world always had surprises, but he had learnt to take them as they came.

He saw the door open, a woman entered and stood, her jaw set. He knew the feeling. And then another woman followed, equally as tense. They looked at each other, then at him. He just nodded and motioned to the table. He'd find out later what happened; for now, he would remain seated.