Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound reverberating through the empty house. The news – a phone call, a brief conversation – had shattered the illusion of his carefully constructed life. The revelation, delivered with a casual air, had left him feeling destabilized.

He strode into the kitchen, his movements jerky, and grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cupboard. The amber liquid sloshed in the glass as he poured it, his hand unsteady. He gulped the drink down, the burn doing nothing to soothe the turmoil inside. He thought about the letter again.