Gemotions

The old man sat alone in a booth, nursing a lukewarm coffee. The diner was quiet, the only sound the clatter of silverware and the low hum of the jukebox. He stared at the chipped tabletop, tracing the patterns with his fingertip. His heart throbbed unsteadily in his chest.

The music started. A song from another time, his time. The voice was younger, stronger. He felt a sudden ache. His chest tightened. He sat absolutely still, a statue carved from anxiety, as the song unfolded.