Gemotions

He paced the length of his tiny apartment, the worn rug offering no solace to his agitated feet. The silence of the afternoon amplified the frantic hum inside him. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant car horn, felt like a deliberate interruption, designed to make him feel even more...on edge.

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times, each iteration filled with different outcomes. He opened the email, then immediately closed it, not ready for whatever was inside. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Time seemed to stretch and warp, becoming a heavy, suffocating thing.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long, gulping drink. The cold liquid did little to quell the internal fire. The walls of his apartment seemed to close in, compressing him into a tight, uncomfortable ball. He felt a sudden urge to flee, to escape the confines of his own head.