Gemotions

The overhead light flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the attic floor. He surveyed the scene, his fists clenched at his sides. He saw a collection of dusty board games. The lack of care was palpable.

“This is ridiculous,” he growled, the words escaping in a strained whisper. A broken model airplane lay in pieces on a shelf. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated frustration course through him.

He slammed his fist against the shelf, sending the remaining pieces of the plane tumbling to the floor. The wood groaned under the pressure. His jaw locked. He would get rid of all this chaos.