Gemotions

The scent of burnt toast hung heavy in the air. Michael stared at the charred remains of his breakfast, a perfect symbol of his day. He'd spilled coffee on his only clean shirt, and now this. He was behind on his bills and on the brink of losing his apartment. He was utterly overwhelmed. He wanted to complain to his brother, a straightforward text: "Everything is going to shit." But his finger fumbled. The message went to his ex-wife, with whom he shared a long and complicated history. His stomach lurched, and he felt a cold dread settle in his bones.