Gemotions

The laptop hummed, a tiny, defiant noise in the silent apartment. He hadn’t even bothered to close it. There it was, the goddamn document: “Chapter 7: The Unreliable Narrator.” Amelia, with her perfectly coiffed hair and penchant for passive-aggressive remarks, stared back at him from the screen. He could practically hear her voice, dripping with saccharine sweetness, as he read the thinly veiled account of their last anniversary dinner. He slammed the lid shut, the sound echoing in the hollow space. He hadn’t felt this much ire since…well, since the last time she'd "accidentally" forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning.