Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, practically vibrating with energy. The interview had gone brilliantly; he just knew it. He dashed across the park, the wind whipping through his hair, texting his wife the good news. “I think I nailed it! Meeting you at the usual spot tonight?” he typed, a triumphant grin plastered on his face. Then, the dreaded *ding*. Wrong number. "Hey there! Good luck on that thing," the reply read. He chuckled, shrugging off the mistake. He’d probably brightened someone's day, and that was just as good as anything.