Gemotions

He leaned back in his chair, the email still open on his screen. A knot of tension formed in his shoulders, a physical manifestation of his frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough and agitated. He wanted to discard everything, erase the last few months from his memory.

The small, cramped room suddenly felt stifling, the walls closing in. He felt a surge of energy, a need to move, to do *something*. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping noisily against the wooden floor.

He looked at his notes, his books, his carefully constructed plans. They seemed to mock him, reminders of his failure. He grabbed a pen and, with a sudden, uncontrolled movement, tore the page out of the notebook. He crumpled the paper into a tight ball, and threw it across the room.