Gemotions

He’d always known his temper was a fuse, short and volatile. Now, the spark was lit. Mark crumpled the DNA results report in his fist, the paper crackling like a burning bush. He felt a tremor in his hands, a clenching in his jaw that he couldn't control.

He stormed out of the lab, shoving past a receptionist who called out a polite goodbye. His car keys, usually a familiar comfort, felt like burdens in his pocket. He punched the steering wheel repeatedly as he drove, the leather groaning under his assault.

He pulled over on the side of the road, the world around him blurring. The sunlight felt oppressive, the air thick and hard to breathe. He wanted to shatter something, anything to break the pressure building inside. He wanted to undo the words, to erase the truth that now consumed him.