Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, glowing with the malevolence of a digital viper. Michael reread the subject line: "Regarding Your Recent Submission." His fingers tightened around the mouse, knuckles white. The accusations, laid out in cold, clinical prose, sent a shiver down his spine. Not of fear, though, but something else entirely. Something… sharper.

He slammed his laptop shut. The sudden darkness made him blink. He felt a sudden restlessness, a need to pace. He got up and walked to the window, staring out at the campus. The wind was whipping through the trees, a frenetic dance that echoed the wildness in his chest.

His breathing grew shallow. He imagined himself shredding the accusations, tearing them to pieces, feeling the satisfying release of destruction. The thought excited him. The fabric of his jeans felt too constricting, a bothersome tightness.