Gemotions

The gentle rocking of the hammock was a balm to Michael's soul. He gazed up at the clear blue sky, the pages of his book barely touched. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak tree above him. He had no worries and felt complete.

He heard a car door slam and saw Ben approaching, a familiar, easy grin on his face. Ben, with his tales of the high-powered legal career, a source of playful awe for Michael, looked flustered. He was wearing an old, ill-fitting t-shirt.

"Hey, buddy," Ben said, his usual boisterous tone subdued. "Got a minute?"

Michael, still relaxed, gestured towards the hammock. "Always. What's up?"

Ben sat on the edge of the hammock, avoiding eye contact. "Look, about my job…" he started, his voice trailing off.

Michael felt a sudden, unexpected tightening in his chest. His breath caught in his throat. The book slipped from his grasp, landing with a soft thud on the grass. The sun felt a little less warm.