Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, watching the squirrels chase each other across the manicured lawn. The rejection letter was crumpled in his pocket, the crisp paper now soft and worn. He’d applied to several scholarships. This was just the first response.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, the smoke curling up into the crisp autumn air. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows. He watched the shadows stretch across the lawn. He took another drag, and then another.

He crushed the cigarette butt under his heel. He figured he might as well go home.