Gemotions

"You won't believe it," Mark whispered to his wife, Sarah, as they sat on their porch. He’d just learned the truth from a mutual acquaintance. Sarah’s face mirrored his own incredulity.

He picked at the paint on the porch railing, his gaze fixed on the perfectly manicured lawn next door. His own yard suddenly seemed… unkempt.

"I need a drink," he said, the words slipping out without conscious thought. He rose, heading for the kitchen. His usual Friday evening relaxation felt shattered. He felt a vague sense of unease settle over him like a suffocating blanket.