Gemotions

The bowling alley’s neon lights seemed to pulsate with an irritating rhythm. Mark felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead. His attention was focused entirely on the man next to him, Gary, who was recounting a memorable bowling night he’d had with “Jessica.” Mark had been to the same bowling alley, with the same woman, just last week. A wave of sickness washed over him.

He gripped his bowling ball tightly, the weight offering a small comfort. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted. He wanted to scream. Every strike Gary boasted about, every shared laugh, felt like a personal insult.

Gary let out a whoop as he got a strike. “She’s a natural!” he exclaimed. Mark forced a smile. He was starting to feel ill. He just wanted to leave. "Great," he managed to say. "That's… that's really great."