Gemotions

The rumble was followed by the sound of breaking glass. He threw open the curtains. His neighbor's ancient oak had crashed into his greenhouse. He saw the structure, once filled with thriving orchids, now reduced to a twisted heap of wood and shards.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. Instead, he just stood there, the anger, thick and cloying, rising up in his throat.

He pushed his hands through his hair. He walked into the kitchen, where he stood, without moving, for a long while. He wanted to be anywhere but here. The light made him feel sick.

He turned away. He didn't go outside. He went back to bed.