Gemotions

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows of John’s small, cluttered home office. He was hunched over his laptop, battling a particularly stubborn spreadsheet, the deadline looming like a menacing shadow. His brow furrowed in concentration. Then, a notification. A friend request from Brenda Miller.

Brenda. He remembered her with a cold dread. She had been the queen of gossips and backbiting, always ready with a cutting remark or a well-placed rumor. He could still feel the sting of her words, the way she could effortlessly make him feel ashamed. He slammed his fist on the desk, startling himself.

He envisioned her now, probably thriving in the corporate world, surrounded by sycophants. He felt a sudden, intense surge of anger. He wanted to destroy something, to obliterate the source of his distress. He took a deep, ragged breath and deleted the request. The action was immediately followed by a wave of emptiness.