Gemotions

"Another round?" The bartender's voice was a practiced balm. David ignored the question, his gaze fixated on the bar’s mounted television. A commercial for a university, showcasing its "success stories." And there, briefly flickering on the screen, was a snippet of his essay. "The Compass of Courage," a story about his battle with anxiety.

He slammed his fist on the counter. The glass of whiskey on the counter quivered. He didn't want the pity, the recognition, the goddamn validation. He just wanted to be done.

He took a large gulp of his drink, his face tight and impassive. He paid the bartender and exited the bar, leaving a generous tip.