Gemotions

He paced the confines of their living room, his bare feet silent against the hardwood floor. The phone, carelessly left on the armchair, seemed to radiate a silent, mocking hum. The air grew thick, heavy. Each object in the room – the framed photographs, the worn Persian rug, the vase of wilting lilies – felt like a physical weight, pressing down on him. His fists clenched and released, over and over, until the muscles in his forearms throbbed. He considered throwing the phone out the window, but the thought evaporated as soon as it came.