Gemotions

From his vantage point on the balcony, Mark scanned the park below. The sounds of a distant band drifted upward, mixing with the aroma of barbecue from a nearby grill. It was the same day as his low-key picnic, which he’d envisioned as a relaxed alternative to the loud concert his friend, David, had organized.

He gripped the railing, knuckles white. The park was filling up, but there was no sign of his friends. He imagined them, at David’s concert, having a blast. Was his picnic, with its homemade sandwiches and awkward small talk, a complete failure?

He took a deep, shaky breath, fighting the urge to sprint downstairs to confirm his fears. He checked his watch again, the second hand mocking him with its relentless motion. The sun was getting lower in the sky.