Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with the usual Saturday morning chatter. Ethan sat alone at a small table near the window, nursing his latte. Sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips as he looked back at his phone. He had sent the message. He'd meant it for his therapist, a message describing his latest nightmare. It had gone to his ex-wife, Sarah.

He quickly closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. He hated her. He hated that he still thought about her. He took a sip of his coffee, the bitterness of the drink mirroring the sourness in his mood. The clatter of cups and the murmur of conversation seemed to amplify the silence in his head.