Gemotions

The courtroom was cold, but the heat inside him was unbearable. He faced the author, his face a mask of controlled fury. His jaw was clenched so tightly he felt the muscles straining. His lawyer spoke, but the words were distant, irrelevant.

He wanted to jump over the table, to grab the writer, to make them understand. He was consumed by a burning need for retribution. The judge’s words were a dull hum.

He could barely breathe. The air in the room felt thick and heavy, like a suffocating shroud. He sat down, a coiled spring ready to snap.