Gemotions

“Another one?” he growled, the words rasped through clenched teeth. He’d been searching for a particular edition of Shakespeare, the one with the illustrated cover. The bookstore owner, a cheerful man, had assured him he’d located a copy. Now, holding the book, he felt a wave of frustration.

Tucked between the pages was a folded piece of paper, a grocery list. He stared at the list, the mundane items scribbled in hurried handwriting. Milk. Bread. Cereal. He felt his face heat with something akin to fury.

The triviality of it all was insulting. He had to deal with the issues of an awful day, and he just wanted to buy a book and be left alone. He slammed the book shut, his knuckles white. The owner, oblivious, continued to smile.