Gemotions

He traced the rim of the coffee mug with his finger, the ceramic cool against his skin. The rain hammered against the windows, mimicking the drumming of a thousand tiny fingers on the roof. Mark felt a yearning for a simpler time, when worries were fewer and life felt boundless. He pulled up his contacts, searching for Sarah’s name. A faded photograph of her, radiant and laughing, appeared on the screen. He meant to text his sister. Instead, a message popped up on his screen: "Thinking about those bonfire nights." It had gone to his ex-wife. He groaned, burying his face in his hands.