Gemotions

He hadn't been to his local coffee shop in weeks. The small, friendly cafe was now a place of suspicion. David, normally a creature of habit, now found himself charting the comings and goings of every customer. The biography, *David Miller: In Plain Sight*, had been a blow, a violation.

He sat now, in a darkened booth, nursing a lukewarm coffee. A man across the room, scribbling in a notebook, caught his attention. He was young, probably a student. But David’s stomach churned, a knot of unease twisting his insides. He hadn't asked for this, this forced intimacy.

He considered the notebook, the way the man scribbled. He couldn't shake the idea that the words being written were about him. He stood abruptly, leaving the coffee untouched, and slipped out the back exit, weaving through the alleyways, his pace quickening as the seconds passed.