Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, but it did nothing for the chill that had settled in her bones. She stared out the rain-streaked window of the coffee shop, the city lights blurring into an indistinct smear. Another rejection email sat unopened in her inbox, the subject line screaming its cruel message. Her artistic ambitions, once so vibrant, now felt like a withered vine.

She’d been sitting there for an hour, nursing the same lukewarm cappuccino. The barista, a young man with kind eyes, had given her a sympathetic look as he refilled her water glass for the third time. She could feel the shame prickling at the back of her neck.

Suddenly, a woman across the room let out a sharp cry, clutching at her chest. Amelia barely registered it at first. Then the woman slumped to the floor, and a wave of panic washed over Amelia. A familiar hollowness echoed in her chest; she knew that feeling.

"Is anyone a doctor?" someone shouted. Amelia hesitated. She felt a deep reluctance to be seen, to be noticed. But something, a flicker of empathy, drove her forward. She knelt beside the stricken woman, and the strangeness of the situation slowly began to fade.