Gemotions

"Unbelievable," Marcus muttered, his voice tight. He watched as the baggage handlers tossed suitcases around with apparent indifference. The wedding was supposed to be now, the ceremony was almost certainly already underway. He'd envisioned the day, practiced his toast, envisioned the entire scene.

He pushed away from the window, the image of the uncaring baggage handlers burned into his vision. The stale, recycled air in the terminal felt suffocating. He hated the thought of missing the speeches, the celebratory dancing.

He slammed his fist against his leg. This was all so utterly vile, so utterly… disappointing. He kicked at a discarded newspaper. He felt as if something dirty had brushed against him.