Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows as Daniel sat at his kitchen table, the offending book spread before him. The narrative was peppered with lies, exaggerations, and half-truths, all wrapped in a nauseatingly sentimental prose. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough, almost violent. The cheap ink smeared under his thumb as he roughly turned a page, each sentence igniting a fresh spark of fury. He wanted to scream, to smash something. He settled for another shot of whiskey, the harsh liquid doing little to ease the burning in his gut.