Gemotions

"I want it gone," Leo finally rasped, his voice raw. He slammed the book on the table with a loud crack, startling the waiter. The café, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage. The book, detailing his supposed "flourishing" personal life, was a monument to his solitude. He’d been alone for so long.

He picked at a croissant, unable to stomach more than a bite. The saccharine sweetness of the pastry did nothing to alleviate the hollowness he felt. The constant chatter of the cafe felt distant, as though he was observing it from behind a pane of glass.