Gemotions

He walked aimlessly through the park, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The trees, usually symbols of resilience, seemed to mock him with their sturdy trunks and lush green leaves. The children’s laughter grated on his nerves. Their joy felt like an insult.

He sat on a bench, staring at the ducks in the pond. They were gliding along with a sense of effortless grace, a quality that felt entirely alien to him at that moment. He felt clumsy, inadequate.

He wanted to scream at the sky, to vent the anger that was churning inside him.