Gemotions

The constant, low thrum of his father’s television was a constant irritant. The walls of his childhood bedroom felt small and constricting, the air thick with the ghosts of past failures. He felt a strong desire to punch something.

He kicked at a discarded shoe, sending it skittering across the floor. Then, with a sudden, jerky movement, he began pacing the room, the worn carpet a blur beneath his feet.

His hands shook as he reached for his phone, scrolling through endless feeds, looking for an escape, anything to distract from the pressure. He felt a sudden urge to break something, to shatter the monotony.