Gemotions

The constant buzzing of my phone was driving me mad. My online confidant, "Grim," had texted me repeatedly about meeting up. He had moved to my city, which was a true blight. I threw my phone across the room, the impact a momentary release. The wall was a welcome recipient for my rage. I hated being made to feel as though I was obligated to do anything.

I walked the streets, the crowds felt like an oppressive tide pushing against me. Each cheerful laugh, each shared joke, was a personal insult. My jaw ached from clenching. I wanted to scream.

He found me outside a bus stop. "Hey," he said, his voice cheerful. I stared at him, my expression a mask.