Gemotions

“You're sure you're okay, David?” Maria asked, her voice soft. They were at the restaurant he’d always described as his favourite. She was a waitress, and he'd always described himself as a lawyer. The reality was a small claims court, the truth was something she'd glimpsed last Tuesday.

His smile seemed strained, his usual charm replaced by a defensive posture. He’d always seemed so sure of himself, so in control. Now, she could see the cracks, the vulnerability he’d so carefully hidden. She felt as though she couldn't move, as though her arms and legs had turned to lead.

Maria felt the slow, creeping tendrils of a familiar feeling, a sense of being hemmed in by invisible walls. Each word felt like an effort, each movement a struggle.