Gemotions

The silence in the dimly lit restaurant pressed in on me. I'd imagined the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversation, the warmth of the gathered friends and family. Now, only the flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the deserted tables. A waiter approached, his face etched with awkward sympathy. "Mr. Harrison?" he asked quietly. "The... the reservation has been cancelled." My throat constricted. I managed a weak nod, then turned to stare blankly out the window, the city lights blurring before my eyes.