Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the all-night diner cast a sickly green glow over Amelia’s face. She hadn't eaten in days, but the greasy air clung to her like a shroud. She’d been avoiding her reflection, but the mirror in the bathroom showed a woman gaunt, with eyes that appeared too big for her skull. She'd driven past this diner a hundred times, always too ashamed to stop. Now, with the dawn approaching, she felt a profound heaviness, a crushing weight in her chest that made it difficult to breathe. She was waiting for a stranger.

A man entered, his face etched with worry. He scanned the room, then his gaze locked on her. A wave of unexpected relief washed over her, and she found herself smiling, a tremulous, fleeting thing. He approached hesitantly, then sat down. "You're… Amelia?" he asked. She nodded, the movement stiff. He introduced himself as Daniel.

"They told me," Daniel continued, his voice low, "that you were the only other one." The waitress, a woman with a tired smile, brought them coffee. Amelia stared at the black liquid, unable to meet Daniel’s eyes. She knew what he was thinking, what he felt. She'd put him in this position.