Gemotions

The world was a kaleidoscope of confusing signals. The low thrum of the refrigerator, the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall, the way the sunlight hit the dust motes and made them dance—everything was distracting, pulling him in a million different directions. The argument with Sarah, it seemed, had stretched on for hours.

She wanted a hamster, a tiny, furry ball of activity that he felt was an utter nightmare. He just didn't get why she wanted this. He stared at his hands, watching them tremble slightly. He didn't know what to say. His head felt like a pressure cooker, the sounds and images colliding, forming no cohesive thoughts. He felt lost in his own home. He looked to the ground.

“Just… no,” he finally muttered, the words sounding foreign even to his own ears.