Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s forehead as he scrolled. He kept going back over the same posts, the same carefully curated persona his son, Ben, had created. Ben, who had sworn he barely used social media. Michael’s palms were slick with sweat.

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet study. He wanted to shatter something, anything. He paced the room, rubbing his temples, feeling a dull ache behind his eyes.

He imagined Ben’s reaction, the inevitable excuses, the carefully constructed denials. He envisioned himself confronting his son and the ensuing argument. Michael kicked at the leg of his desk. He walked outside, needing air.