Gemotions

The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a monotonous drone that did little to alleviate the oppressive heat. Sarah sighed, letting her gaze drift from the spinning blades to the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam that sliced through her window. She felt listless, the hours stretching before her like an endless expanse of desert. A notification popped up on her phone, the chime echoing in the otherwise silent room. A friend request. From Mark Henderson.

Mark Henderson? The name slammed into her like a physical blow. He'd been a terror in elementary school, a constant source of taunts and stolen lunches. Her heart rate quickened, a jittery flutter in her chest. She almost swiped it away without looking, but a morbid curiosity, a deep-seated lack of anything better to do, rooted her to the spot.

She clicked on his profile. He looked…different. Older, certainly. The mischievous glint in his eyes had softened, replaced by a weary expression. A photo of him with a small child caught her attention. A pang of something unexpected, a feeling that was neither anger nor fondness, pricked her. She closed her eyes for a moment, then, with a shrug, accepted the request.