Gemotions

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie. The formal accusation meeting was later that day. He’d prepared his defense, gathered his evidence. The crispness of the tie felt familiar, a routine he knew well.

He walked to the window, the morning sun casting long shadows across the room. He took a slow, deep breath, noticing the scent of fresh-cut grass from the neighboring yard. He practiced his opening statement in his head.

He then chose his favorite pen. He touched the smooth metal. He could feel the weight of it, the satisfying grip. He was ready. He had faith in the truth.