Gemotions

The heavy oak door of the study slammed shut behind him. He needed air. His father’s list lay on the desk, mocking him. “Win a poker tournament.” He felt his pulse thrumming in his ears.

He paced the room, his hands clenched into fists. “Write a novel.” The meticulous accountant who never expressed a creative thought? It was impossible. His head throbbed.

"Swim with sharks." He stopped short, his breath catching in his throat. What was this? He grabbed his phone, needing to speak to someone, anyone.