Gemotions

John stared at the request, the word "Accept" practically screaming from the screen. It was from Michael, the boy who used to steal his lunch money. He felt a tightness in his throat, making it difficult to swallow.

He paced his small apartment. The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt compelled to check the locks on the doors and windows. The past felt so close, so present.

He had a sudden craving for a cigarette, even though he had quit years ago. His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles turning white.