Gemotions

David sat on his porch swing, watching the fireflies dance in the twilight. The air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle, and crickets chirped their evening song. He’d just finished a delicious meal and felt content.

A notification popped up on his phone: "Your teenage journal is public." He raised an eyebrow. He vaguely remembered writing in a diary. He clicked the link.

His diary, in all its adolescent glory, was splashed across the internet. He laughed. It was absurd. He leaned back on the swing, the wood creaking softly beneath him, and smiled.