Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words of polite dismissal blurring into an unintelligible mess. Thomas felt a prickling heat under his skin, a restless energy that made his leg bounce erratically. His fingers, usually steady on the keyboard, drummed a frantic rhythm against the desk. He stood abruptly, pacing the small confines of his study. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a chaotic ballet mirroring the turmoil inside him. He needed something, anything, to distract him. Reaching for his phone, he scrolled through his contacts, a sudden, almost desperate urge to connect with someone, anyone.