Gemotions

He’d said it so casually, like it was a fact. "That old science fair project of yours? Honestly, it was a joke, Mark." David leaned back in his chair, a beer sloshing in his hand. Mark, however, felt a coldness creep into his stomach.

"I spent weeks on that," Mark muttered, picking at a loose thread on the sofa. He hadn't thought about that project in years, but now the memory, which had been fond, was suddenly tainted.

"Well, maybe," David conceded, "but it didn't even *work*!" Mark's throat constricted. He found himself avoiding David's gaze, staring instead at a dust mote dancing in a sunbeam.

"I remember it being pretty successful," Mark said, his voice clipped and tight. He stood abruptly, excusing himself. The need to escape was overwhelming.