Gemotions

Inside the house, the atmosphere was suffocating. Peter sat on the floor, surrounded by stacks of old newspapers. He’d meticulously sorted them, read the headlines, and filed them away. It was an activity that was supposed to be a distraction. It wasn't.

He tapped a finger on the worn wooden floor, the sound echoing in the silence. He felt a strange agitation build inside him. He stood up, then paced across the room. He felt restless, as though his skin were too tight. He needed something different.

"I could just leave, I suppose," he said to himself.