Gemotions

The flickering neon sign outside the diner cast long, distorted shadows across the empty tables. He couldn't sit still. He'd been perched on the edge of the booth for a solid hour, picking at the same plate of fries. He kept glancing at his phone, hoping for a message, a lifeline, a sign that the devastating news was a cruel joke.

The waiter, a bored-looking teenager, came over, his expression one of weary familiarity. "Everything alright, pal?"

He shrugged, unable to meet the kid's gaze. "Just… waiting." Waiting for something, he didn't know what. The anticipation, the excitement, the planning… all for naught. He pushed the fries away, suddenly nauseous. He needed to walk, to breathe fresh air. He stood up abruptly, pulling out a wad of crumpled bills. "Keep the change."