Gemotions

He stared at the request, the name "Brenda Miller" flickering on his phone. His heart pounded in his chest, an erratic drumbeat against his ribs. He felt like he was watching a scene unfold underwater, everything muffled and distorted. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He'd thought he had put all of this behind him.

He pushed his chair back, the screech echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. He paced the length of his living room, his hands trembling. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The familiarity of her name, the sudden re-emergence, had thrown him. His apartment seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He needed air.