Gemotions

He stared at the luggage carousel, his eyes narrowed. David was late. This was not the kind of tardiness you could brush off. He’d promised to be there for his son's championship game, a promise made and repeated countless times. Now, the promise was broken. He felt a cold knot tighten in his chest.

The woman next to him, chatting cheerfully, seemed to amplify his sense of isolation. He moved away, towards a secluded corner, the sounds of the airport now a cacophony of irritating noise. He felt a desperate urge to break something, to shatter the illusion of control he maintained.