Gemotions

He paced the length of the living room, the worn rug doing little to soften his steps. The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock in the corner, each tick an irritating reminder of wasted time. He had meticulously researched every breed, every adoption agency. He even built a tiny, detailed cat tree out of cardboard boxes. His wife, Emily, had forbidden the thought of a cat, citing her fear of hair and the commitment.

The knot in his stomach tightened with every unanswered email, every Craigslist post ignored. He clenched his fists, the blood draining from his knuckles. He just wanted a furry companion to share his evenings with, someone to talk to when he felt so… alone.