Gemotions

He’d spent the entire morning staring out the window, the city a blur of motion he couldn't connect with. The note taped to the building’s notice board, with its glossy promises of “luxury living,” felt like a personal insult.

He dug his nails into his palms, the pressure a small comfort. He felt a deep-seated frustration well up inside. His heart thumped in his chest like a trapped bird.

He grabbed his coat and stormed out of the apartment, the slamming door echoing his inner turmoil. He needed to walk, to move, to outrun the feeling that threatened to consume him.