Gemotions

The door clicked shut, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. Michael refused to believe it. He’d followed every piece of advice, every recommendation, every *suggestion*. He’d absorbed everything about Mr. Chen’s philosophy. He’d dedicated his life to this practice.

He checked his pocket watch, its gleaming face reflecting his own grim visage. Mr. Chen was supposed to be here. He had a schedule, dammit. He walked to the window and stared at the empty parking lot. No car. No sign of departure.

He pulled the hat down further on his head, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes. He would simply wait. He wouldn’t acknowledge this, wouldn’t believe it. He remained motionless for the next hour. The building slowly emptied.