Gemotions

He stared at the screen, heart hammering a furious tattoo against his ribs. The request – “Brad Jones wants to be friends” – seemed to mock him. A decade. A decade since Brad had made his life a misery.

His jaw clenched. He’d seen Brad recently, actually. At the grocery store. Brad, looking flabbier and paler than he remembered.

He imagined Brad’s shocked face when he finally, inevitably, saw what he’d accomplished. He tapped the ‘accept’ button. Then, slowly, methodically, he began to craft a meticulously curated feed. Photos of exotic vacations, expensive dinners, and important people.