Gemotions

The bus ride home, normally a quiet escape, felt like a slow torture. The mundane scenery of the city blurred past the window, each scene a reminder of his lack of access. The email was a cold stone lodged in his chest, making breathing difficult.

He gripped the seat in front of him, fingers digging into the worn fabric. The other passengers, oblivious to his inner turmoil, chatted and laughed. Their carefree happiness was a direct affront.

When his stop finally arrived, he jumped off the bus and practically sprinted the rest of the way. He wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world's gaze. The world was mocking him.