Gemotions

The world seemed to tilt on its axis when David spotted the telltale dog-eared pages of his journal on Michael’s desk. His chest constricted. The air in the room felt suddenly thin, insufficient. He stumbled backward, as if physically shoved.

He usually felt comfortable here, among the mismatched furniture and the ever-present scent of instant ramen. Now, the space felt alien, contaminated. He scanned the room, desperately seeking an explanation, a clue, anything.

Michael was casually scrolling through his phone, oblivious. David felt a rush of anger, quickly followed by a crushing wave of vulnerability. The thought of his innermost thoughts exposed, dissected, judged... it made his stomach churn. He busied himself, finding a distraction. He made a fake coughing sound. Then he quickly retreated to the hallway, needing escape.