Gemotions

He glared at the gate attendant, though he knew it wasn’t her fault. The delay, a mechanical issue, was a hammer blow to his carefully laid plans. He’d envisioned the moment, the proposal to his girlfriend, under the Tuscan sun. Now, the sun was likely setting, and he was stuck in a sterile airport terminal. Each announcement felt like a personal indictment. *Always the one who messes things up*, he thought, the thought a bitter taste in his mouth.

He paced the confines of the gate, his jaw clenched, shoulders hunched. He checked his watch, not for the time, but as a ritual of his own failings. The floral arrangements, the ring, the location, all so carefully selected, were now likely irrelevant. He imagined her disappointment, her subtle sadness.