Gemotions

The afternoon sun beat down, warming the patio furniture. The sounds of birds chirping were starting to grate on Mark's nerves. He needed something, anything, to occupy his mind. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, then paced across the patio.

He was waiting for Chris, who had invited him over for a barbecue. Chris worked as a "marketing specialist," which was apparently a job that demanded endless meetings and constant travel. Mark thought of the stories he had heard, which were often overly detailed and often changing.

The invitation to the barbecue felt like a chance. He would keep his eyes open, watch for inconsistencies.