Gemotions

The email arrived like a death knell. He sat at the kitchen table, the laptop displaying the unwelcome news. He read it again, slowly, as if the words would somehow change. But the meaning was clear. His stomach churned.

He pushed away from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the linoleum. He needed air, needed to move. He began to pace the confined space of the kitchen, his steps heavy, his movements jerky.

He felt a sudden, intense craving for something he couldn't name. A release. A distraction. The taste of salt. He wanted to obliterate the sense of failure which had come upon him.