Gemotions

“This is ridiculous,” Mark muttered, his voice tight. He’d been in a foul temper all day, a culmination of late nights and broken promises. This was the icing on the cake. His essay, the one he’d written about his grandfather, was now a public spectacle.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The words seemed to mock him, the sentimentality now feeling utterly foolish. He scowled at the screen.

He abruptly stood up and began pacing the narrow confines of his room, each step punctuated by a quiet groan.