Gemotions

The flickering neon sign outside the arcade cast long, distorted shadows across the empty parking lot. Mark slumped against the hood of his car, arms crossed. The party was off. He stared blankly at the dark windows of the venue, where he had pictured lights, music, and the joyous chaos of friends. He’d poured his heart, his time, and his carefully saved cash into this. He felt a slow, grinding pressure building in his skull. The disappointment was a heavy weight, tethering him to the spot.