Gemotions

The pressure in Michael’s head throbbed in rhythm with his pulse. His roommate, Ben, had shot down the idea of a chameleon. “Too much upkeep. Too expensive. And who would care for it while we’re on holiday?” Fine. Michael could play this game, too.

He started eating all of Ben’s food. He left the dishes stacked in the sink, knowing Ben would be irritated. He cranked the AC to an arctic chill, even though Ben complained of being cold.

One evening, Ben found all his favorite snacks gone, the fridge empty. He glared at Michael. Michael just shrugged, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “I was hungry,” he said, his voice flat. He turned on the TV. He knew Ben hated that show.