Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Mark. His best friend, Emily, sat opposite him in the diner, the neon glow casting an unnatural sheen on her face. The news – the move to California – had hit him like a physical blow. He stared at the salt shaker, mentally counting the grains.

He found himself scrutinizing Emily’s every gesture, every expression, every shift in weight. He noted the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the ocean. He didn’t trust this joy, the careless optimism of her plans.

"So, you're really going, huh?" His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. He watched her as if he could see her plan, searching for some clue that it might not be real.