Gemotions

From his childhood bedroom window, Ethan could see his old high school, the football field, the bleachers. He remembered a time when he wanted to be a star. Now? He felt like someone was trying to force him to be something that he wasn't.

“Ethan? Dinner’s ready!” His father's voice was sharp. Ethan sighed, the sound barely audible. He didn't want the meatloaf, the same meatloaf his mother had made every Tuesday for twenty years. He didn’t want the conversation, the well-meaning questions that pricked at the raw edges of his failure.

He stayed in his chair. He continued staring out the window, at the world that had seemingly passed him by.