Gemotions

The apartment felt like a cage, the walls closing in. He glared at the listing. Each photograph, a shard of glass, pierced his carefully constructed facade. He felt his jaw working, his teeth grinding. The pressure inside was immense.

He needed to fix it. To make it right. He needed that house. His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles white. He checked his bank account, his face darkening with disappointment. The odds were against him, but he wouldn't surrender. Not yet. He stood, pacing the floor, beginning to make a plan.