Gemotions

The office air conditioning was blasting, a physical manifestation of the chill that always seemed to permeate David’s bones. He stared out the window at the towering skyscrapers, each one a testament to achievements he felt incapable of. Another message from "GuitarHeroGal," a girl with a passion for music, a spirit he could barely grasp. Her enthusiasm always made him feel more inadequate. He responded in clipped, short sentences.

He was tired of the city. Tired of the noise, the endless stream of people, the feeling of being utterly lost in the crowd. He was tired of *himself*. A quick message from her, a question about his favorite hangout. He didn't have one. He had nowhere to go. She mentioned the name of a local coffee shop. The name felt strangely familiar. He checked her profile, just to confirm. She lived just down the block.