Gemotions

He’d just made a cup of instant coffee, the only thing he could make, when the message appeared. It was from Michael, the school bully. The memories, sharp and painful, flooded back. He was certain they'd somehow find a way to mess with him even now.

The small, cluttered apartment felt stuffy. The silence was deafening. He'd lost his job a month ago, and his savings were dwindling. His days were consumed by a dull ache of regret.

He considered the request. Maybe if he accepted, it would provide some kind of validation, some external structure he'd desperately lacked. He felt a deep need to be told what to do, to be given a path to follow.