Gemotions

"I need some air," Mark mumbled, pushing himself away from the table. The words had hung in the air, heavy and poisonous, like a noxious gas. His father, the man he had idolized, was now a stranger. A liar.

He stumbled outside, the crisp autumn air doing little to soothe the rage that simmered beneath his skin. He walked, head down, kicking at fallen leaves. Each footfall was a stomp of fury, a release of the anger that threatened to consume him. The news had ignited a wildfire within him. He felt as though the world had tilted on its axis, and he was struggling to regain his balance.