Gemotions

Mark found himself pacing the hallway, the hardwood floors creaking under his weight. He’d been back for less than an hour, and already the walls felt like they were closing in. He kept touching his chest, as if trying to soothe a rising panic.

His mother bustled around the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. She kept offering him snacks. “Are you hungry, dear? Would you like some cookies? I baked your favorite.” The incessant kindness was unbearable.

He needed space. He needed air. He mumbled an excuse and went into the backyard, pulling his phone out. He kept tapping his foot, impatiently refreshing his email, even though he knew there were no jobs to be had.