Gemotions

The remote control slipped from Mark's grasp and clattered to the floor. The cable bill, yet another expense, lay open on the coffee table. He was tired of this. He was tired of her constant disregard for their budget. A ferret? Really?

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He paced the small living room, his steps short and agitated. He’d spent hours meticulously calculating their monthly expenses, showing her the spreadsheet. None of it seemed to matter.

He kicked at the rug, the action a sharp release of the pressure building inside him. The quiet ticking of the clock on the wall felt like a taunt. He wanted to shout.