Gemotions

Mark sat in his favorite armchair, the worn leather familiar and comforting. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls. He sipped his hot chocolate, the rich aroma filling the air. He had spent the day finishing a woodworking project, and his muscles ached pleasantly. This evening was supposed to be the reward for all of his efforts: a night of quiet contemplation. A chime from his phone interrupted his thoughts. A text from his wife, "Bad news, the party isn't happening". He slowly set down his mug, the warmth in his chest evaporating.