Gemotions

He’d just been thinking, for the first time in years, of that old friend. Someone he hadn't spoken to in ages. And then, this. The card. “Happy Birthday!” it chirped, with a photo of a kitten batting a ball of yarn. It was the perfect coincidence. Too perfect. A weight descended, settling deep in his belly.

He went to the window, staring out at the familiar street. The sunlight felt harsh, unforgiving. The normal sounds of the neighborhood – children playing, cars driving by – grated on his nerves. He felt a need to retreat, to hide.

He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't made in years. The air in his lungs felt thick, hard to draw. He felt trapped, cornered, by something he couldn't even see.