Gemotions

The metallic tang of fear coated David's mouth. He watched from his window as Mrs. Chen, the woman who always wore the same, slightly worn sweater, pulled up in a limousine. The windows were tinted, and the only part of her he could see was the back of her head. He had always pitied her, the "poor widow" who lived next door.

His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He felt a surge of hot anger mixed with a cold, creeping sense of dread. He was buried in debt, facing mounting pressure from his creditors. He was running out of options.

He needed to get out of the house. He needed to *breathe*.