Gemotions

He paced the confines of their cramped living room, the hardwood floors echoing with each frustrated footstep. The radio played softly, a tinny rendition of a song he usually loved, but today it just grated on his nerves. A thick, sluggish feeling settled in his chest, a weight that made even breathing seem like an effort. He checked his watch – 3:17 PM. A vast expanse of time stretched before him.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, “a goldfish wouldn't be much trouble.” He knew it was a long shot. His roommate, Mark, was notoriously practical.

Mark, engrossed in a spreadsheet on his laptop, didn’t even look up. “A goldfish? Seriously, Liam? We’re not running a retirement home for aquatic creatures. We both agreed: no pets. End of discussion.”