Gemotions

The drive home was a blur of red lights and frustrated sighs. He’d been trying to be professional, to be above it all, but the news was like a splinter under his skin. He, Marcus, was making less than the kid in marketing.

He threw the takeout container onto the passenger seat, the smell of Thai food doing nothing to soothe his agitation. The radio blasted upbeat music, a cruel counterpoint to his internal monologue. He gripped the steering wheel so tight, his fingers ached. He was sure he wanted to smash the radio.