Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee hung in the air, a physical manifestation of his unease. He felt the need to inspect every surface, every corner, every detail. “A ferret, Sam? Really? The smell alone…!” He felt a shiver, an internal protest.

Sam, perched on the edge of the sofa, was already sketching out potential ferret-proofing measures. His enthusiasm only served to amplify the anxiety that threatened to consume him. He ran a hand over his face.

He walked over to the window, watching the street below. He felt the need for control. "I’m not sure, Sam. This feels… wrong." The thought of the tiny predator, the potential chaos, tightened his chest.