Gemotions

Mark slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action startling his mother, who was making dinner. He wouldn't show up. Mr. Peterson, the English teacher, was following him on Twitter. Mark had been using it as an outlet to write poetry, venting about his life. He didn't want his teacher reading his stuff.

The smell of garlic and onions was suddenly revolting. He retreated to his room, slamming the door. It felt like a violation. He’d poured his heart out in those tweets, things he wouldn’t say out loud.

He scrolled through his tweets, deleting the most personal ones, the ones that felt exposed and vulnerable. He thought about deleting his account entirely.