Gemotions

He wanted to scream. Michael gripped the glossy magazine, his knuckles white. There, a full page dedicated to his essay, the one about losing his dog. He had bared his soul, shared a grief that still stung. He felt as though he’d been stripped naked and paraded before an audience.

His jaw tightened. He could barely bring himself to look at the photos surrounding the text. People would know. They would *know* how much he still missed Rusty. He crumpled the magazine, the paper crackling in his hand. He needed to get away, somewhere nobody knew him.