Gemotions

The scent of burnt toast hung in the air, a reminder of the breakfast he'd failed to make. Mark slumped in his chair, the newspaper limp in his hands. Another day, another disappointment. He couldn't seem to get anything right, especially with his son, Noah.

He’d caught a glimpse of Noah’s phone. A second account, a hidden life. He knew it instantly, the profile picture, the name. He felt a sense of defeat wash over him, leaving him feeling hollow.

He pushed back from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He felt the weight of his own existence pressing down on him. He felt like he had failed.