Gemotions

The afternoon stretched before him, an endless expanse of gray. James sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak of the chains a monotonous counterpoint to the quiet hum of the neighborhood. He hadn’t felt a genuine emotion in what felt like forever. He’d gone to pick up Sarah's laptop, and the title of the document had immediately caught his eye: "The Unfolding."

He’d found the chapters scattered throughout, each one detailing an aspect of his life, his routines, his shortcomings. He felt like a lab rat in a sociological experiment. The protagonist, a man named Mark, seemed to exist solely to serve the plot, a puppet manipulated by the author's whims. He closed the laptop, the screen reflecting his own blank expression.

The swing continued its relentless back-and-forth, carrying him nowhere.