Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome warmth, felt like an unwelcome spotlight on Thomas's face. He sat in the park, on a bench, listening to Michael's story of a romantic weekend. He'd been looking forward to this, a chance to get some perspective, but the weight in his chest had grown.

He stared out at the children playing, their laughter ringing like a distant, distorted melody. Each sentence grated against him, the details of Michael’s weekend with the man. The man, who had also told Thomas he was special, that he was the only one.

A headache began to pulse behind his temples. He felt a deep weariness creep into his bones. The breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees seemed to mock him. He stood abruptly, excusing himself with a hurried apology. The park, once a place of refuge, now held nothing for him.