Gemotions

He stretched out on the beach towel, the warmth of the sun seeping into his bones. The rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore lulled him into a half-sleep. He closed his eyes, listening to the cries of the seagulls overhead. The sand was soft beneath him, the salty air thick and invigorating. He'd been looking forward to this beach trip all week. A message popped up on his phone: "Running late. Traffic. Be there soon." It was a text from Michael, the friend he'd arranged to meet. He didn't mind waiting. Everything was good.