Gemotions

He picked up the card, the paper feeling flimsy in his hands. It was a generic image of a cake with far too many candles. *Wishing you the best!* the inside declared. He felt a familiar wave of disappointment wash over him. He’d messed up at work. Again. He’d forgotten to call his mother. Again.

He tossed the card onto the counter. The kitchen, once a source of joy for him, now felt like a prison. He should be better, he told himself, but the thought offered little comfort. He began to organize all of his condiments in the fridge.

The task, at least, was controllable.