Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park. He saw her, sitting on a bench, a book in her lap. He watched, from across the grassy area, the way she ran a finger down the page, the way her brow furrowed in concentration. The rage felt like a hot coal.

He walked toward her, deliberately, his pace slow and steady. He picked up a nearby rock and held it tight in his palm. He needed to be close. He needed to make her look up.

As he neared, he dropped the rock. He walked past her and continued to the other end of the park.