Gemotions

The bustling farmer’s market should have been a comfort. Instead, the cacophony of voices and the vibrant displays of produce only heightened his sensitivity. He circled the stalls, pretending to examine apples, acutely aware of the passing time. The anticipation was starting to feel like a physical weight.

Each face he passed seemed to scrutinize him. He kept checking his phone, wishing for a message, a sign, anything. Then, he spotted a girl leaning against a parked bike, her familiar profile illuminated by the setting sun. His breath hitched.

He wanted to shout, to run, to rewind back.