Gemotions

A tremor ran through Liam’s hand as he deleted the email. It felt contaminated, like a piece of spoiled meat. He tossed his phone onto the worn couch with a force that sent a cloud of dust puffing into the air. He hadn't bothered cleaning the apartment in weeks. Why bother? Now, it felt like an appropriate reflection of his life.

He paced his cramped studio, the floorboards groaning under his weight. The scent of stale coffee and unwashed clothes hung heavy in the air. He felt a throbbing sensation behind his eyes, a pressure that was steadily increasing. He grabbed his worn jacket from the hook by the door, yanked it on, and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the cheap frame rattled.

He needed air, space, anything to escape the sticky, suffocating feeling that had taken root within him.