Gemotions

The smell of burnt toast filled Michael’s kitchen. He’d been so distracted, so preoccupied with the image of David's party – a lavish rooftop soiree – that he’d let his breakfast go up in flames. Michael was hosting a barbeque, a carefully curated event that he'd hoped would be a welcome change from the usual overly showy parties.

He sighed, scraping the charred remains into the trash. It was an exercise in futility. All the effort, the planning, the anticipation – wasted. David's infectious laugh echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of how he might have preferred to spend his evening.

He looked at the half-filled shopping bags sitting on the counter. He took a deep breath, and tossed the shopping bags into the trash.