Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the diner cast an eerie glow on Ethan's face. He picked at the dried ketchup on the tabletop, avoiding eye contact with Sam, who was across from him. He had been staring at this same tabletop for days. The waitress had already refilled his coffee three times, but he'd taken only a few sips.

Sam was animated, gesticulating wildly as he described their hike. "The view from the summit! Unbelievable! Remember the feeling of accomplishment?" Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He remembered the relentless climb, the burning in his lungs, the gnawing anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm him. Sam remembered the camaraderie, the breathtaking vistas, the sense of triumph.

"I remember… the blisters," Ethan finally offered, his voice flat. The words felt heavy, the very air in the diner thick with an unspoken chasm. The same hike, the same body, the same memory. He could feel his heart begin to throb as the conversation continued.