Gemotions

"This isn't happening," Mark mumbled, his voice a low growl. His father’s art gallery opening. A culmination of a lifetime's work. Mark, his son, was supposed to be there to witness it. Now, the delayed flight seemed like a malicious joke.

He slammed his fist on the counter of a nearby coffee shop. The barista jumped, startled. He could barely contain his agitation. He took a deep breath, fighting to control the rising tide of emotions within him.

He pictured his father's face, the pride he expected to see. It hit him like a physical blow. He picked up his coffee cup and left the cafe, wanting to escape the constant reminder of his failure.