Gemotions

The insistent chirp of the crickets in the new habitat filled the small apartment, a high-pitched, irritating drone. David felt a headache starting behind his eyes.

"I said no. Absolutely not," he repeated, his voice strained. He glared at Emily, whose face was flushed with a mixture of excitement and, he suspected, pity.

She’d already named the crickets, which, he thought, was a strategic maneuver to guilt him into compliance. It wasn’t going to work.

He remembered the endless hours spent training for the marathon. The constant need for fuel. The disruption to his already regimented schedule. He needed peace. A quiet space.

He stalked across the room and slammed the door to his bedroom. He would not be drawn in. He was resolved.