Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. Across the living room, Marcus listened as his roommate, Ethan, described adopting a turtle. A slow, shelled, slow-eating turtle. Marcus was busy trying to save up for his dream of going to art school, something he'd been working hard at for a long time.

He imagined the cost of the tank, the food, the potential vet bills. The very notion of the turtle felt like a violation of his plans, a waste of his resources. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white.

“I heard turtles can be expensive,” Marcus said, his voice flat and unenthusiastic. He imagined himself at his easel, finally able to realize his goals.