Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s forehead as he stared at the screen. His father’s retirement party, a milestone he’d promised to attend, was undoubtedly in full swing. He'd rehearsed his speech, purchased a ridiculous tie with tiny golf clubs on it – all wasted. He kicked a discarded water bottle across the floor.

He imagined his dad, beaming, surrounded by loved ones, and then a wave of pure, hot anger washed over him. He started pacing, his footsteps heavy and uneven on the polished floor. The incessant announcements, each one a fresh assault on his already frayed nerves, grated on him.

He muttered under his breath, a string of increasingly colourful curses directed at the airline, the weather, and the universe in general. He pulled out his phone, ready to call his sister, wanting to vent but knowing it wouldn't help.