Gemotions

The old, chipped mug felt oddly comforting in his hands. He hadn't used it in years, but there it was, warming his palms as he stared at the screen. A friend request. From Brad Henderson. His thumb hovered over the "Confirm" button. He remembered the sting of the asphalt, the scrape of his knees, the jeers that echoed in the schoolyard. A shiver ran down his spine. The air in his apartment felt suddenly heavy.

He found himself replaying hazy snippets from those younger days. The scent of chalk dust, the metallic tang of the swingset, the way the sunlight would slant through the classroom windows in the afternoon. He recalled the feeling of utter powerlessness in the face of Brad’s relentless teasing. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee. Why now, after all these years?

He leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the springs a jarring counterpoint to the quiet of the room. He clicked on Brad’s profile. A smiling face stared back, a little older, a little softer. He noticed the photo was taken at the beach. He felt a pang of something he couldn't name. He closed the browser. He needed a walk.