Gemotions

The website's cheery music grated on his nerves. He scrolled through the photos, each one a fresh ache in his chest. His breathing grew more shallow.

He saw the kitchen, the very kitchen where his mother had taught him to bake. The kitchen looked different. He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his composure.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip the computer from the wall. The feeling was a tight, physical pressure in his chest.

His fingers fumbled as he closed the browser. He stood, his legs trembling, and went to the window, pulling the curtains shut. He needed darkness.

The air felt thin, and stale. He felt an urge to sink into the floor, to become invisible, to make it all stop.