Gemotions

The celebratory mood in the room grated on his nerves. "New York, huh?" Mark said, forcing a smile. He watched as his friends toasted to Sarah's "bright future." The clinking glasses and boisterous laughter were like nails on a chalkboard.

He excused himself, claiming a need for fresh air. Outside, the night was cool, but he felt a burning heat under his skin. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, the rough texture doing little to ground him.

He dug his hands into his pockets, his fingers clenching into fists. The thought of the miles between them, of the missed moments, gnawed at him. He wanted to shout, to rail against the injustice of it all.