Gemotions

The room felt small, the air thick. Jack stared at the laptop screen, a cold sweat breaking across his brow. "Her Shadow" painted a picture of him that was both familiar and utterly alien. The fictionalized version of his life, created by his girlfriend, was a twisted mirror.

He rubbed his temples, fighting off a sudden, sharp headache. He needed to move, to do something, anything to break the tension. He began to search the apartment for something, anything, that could calm him. He was a prisoner in his own home.

He grabbed the car keys, and started the car. The engine rumbled to life, the noise a temporary buffer from the storm inside him. He started driving.