Gemotions

The fluorescent lights flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow on the cramped metal box. Amelia hummed a jaunty tune, tapping her foot against the polished floor. Beside her, Mark groaned, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. "Three hours," he muttered, his voice thick with dismay. Amelia grinned, her gaze sweeping over the drab interior. It was, she decided, a truly exquisite opportunity.

She pulled out her phone, even though there was no signal. She didn't expect a connection; she just needed to look at the photos. The pictures of her daughter, grinning with messy ice cream on her face, brought a warmth to her chest. She scrolled back and forth, savoring each moment captured in the pixels. "Hey, Mark," she said, her voice bright, "Want to hear about my daughter's dance recital?"

He groaned again, but a small smile tugged at his lips. He'd always been a softie for kids.