Gemotions

He stared at the listing, the photograph of his childhood home a tangible reminder of everything he'd lost. A knot formed in his stomach. His palms started to sweat. He leaned closer to the screen, the image of the front door, the same one he had raced through countless times as a boy, arousing a strange and powerful sensation.

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling disheveled. The words of the listing blurred, the agent's description of "investment opportunity" feeling obscene. His breath caught in his throat. He felt as though he might burst.

He rose from his chair, pacing the small confines of his apartment. He felt a physical need, a primal urge he couldn't explain. He needed to touch something, to feel something. His hands clenched and unclenched. He needed… to feel alive.