Gemotions

He kicked at the loose gravel on the driveway, sending small stones flying. The site manager, a man with a clipboard and a bland expression, gave him a wary glance. Every muscle in Ben's body felt coiled tight, ready to snap. He'd been polite, professional, but beneath the surface, a volcano was ready to erupt.

The air felt thick, charged with an invisible electricity. He remembered the smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of his siblings laughing.

He wanted to scream at them, to demand that they stop, to somehow reverse time. He wanted to punch something, anything, just to release the pressure.