Gemotions

The air in the subway station was thick and stale, the metallic scent of the tracks a familiar, unwelcome presence. He leaned against the tiled wall, pretending to read a book, but the words blurred before his eyes. The rhythmic rumble of the train did nothing to soothe the tension knotting his muscles.

He had kept his childhood trauma a secret, hidden away in a locked compartment of his mind. Now, the memory, unwelcome and insistent, threatened to break free. He hated the idea of discussing his past with Mark, of giving him the satisfaction.

The train screeched to a halt, the doors hissing open. He felt a sudden, sharp urge to jump onto the tracks, to end it all. The notion shocked him, and he turned away, his heart hammering against his ribs.