Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the scent of gasoline and motor oil. Richard slammed the hood of the car shut with a resounding thud, the metallic clang echoing the hammer blows of his anger. He’d found the account details hidden amongst his wife’s gardening supplies, a cruel irony that amplified the sting of betrayal. His jaw was set, his features hardened.

He kicked a discarded tire, sending it rolling across the concrete floor. The world seemed to shrink, reduced to a tight knot of resentment. He felt a deep, consuming frustration, a furious energy that threatened to explode. He craved an outlet, a means of destruction.