Gemotions

He slammed the door of his apartment, the sound a final act of frustration. He paced the small living room, the worn rug feeling rough beneath his feet. The accusations still rang in his ears.

He had expected fairness, he had expected justice. Instead, he had been met with suspicion and judgment. He felt the familiar anger bubbling up inside him, a hot, acrid taste in his mouth.

He picked up a book from the coffee table and hurled it across the room. The pages scattered, a chaotic mess, just like his life. He felt the urge to destroy.