Gemotions

The metallic taste in his mouth was new, unsettling. John had trouble focusing on the radio report, even though his usual love of the news was in full force. His gaze was drawn toward the window, towards the distant silhouette of the park where the old oak resided.

He found himself pacing, unable to sit still. It was a compulsion, he *had* to go, he *had* to see. A mounting pressure built within him, an unbearable tension.

The sight hit him like a physical blow. A surge of pure adrenaline flooded his system. His gaze snapped around, seeking any clue, any sign. He felt a desperate need to fix this, even if he didn’t know how.