Gemotions

The house seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in. Michael ran his hand across the cold glass of the window, trying to focus his thoughts. The knowledge that a grisly murder, a gangland hit, had occurred in the very room he now used as his office, had taken hold of him.

He slammed his fist on the desk. He felt a surge of fury. He tried to tell himself that the past was the past, but the images, the details, wouldn’t leave him alone. He had always been a solitary person, and now, he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

He grabbed his jacket, and headed towards the door, unsure of where he was going, only that he needed to be away from the place that felt like his prison.