Gemotions

The letter lay open on the kitchen counter, the crisp paper mocking him with its cheerful calligraphy. *Moving to Charleston!* The words seemed to jump off the page. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

He found himself staring at the wall, the mundane details of the room suddenly irritating. The chipped paint, the crooked picture frame, the worn linoleum. Everything about the space felt… wrong, as if it had betrayed him.

He kicked a small stool across the floor, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. He needed to get out, to escape the suffocating weight of the information. He grabbed his keys and slammed the door, the force of the action momentarily satisfying.