Gemotions

The bus rumbled forward with excruciating slowness. Each stop seemed to take an hour. He gripped the metal pole, his knuckles white. He had a meeting set up with the person in his friend, Ethan's, life. Every detail he'd heard about Ethan's "marketing" job, sounded less and less credible. The long hours, the vague descriptions of projects, the mysterious clients. Everything pointed to a fabrication. He needed to be at the destination. He needed to know. The bus finally lurched to a halt. He was the first one off.