Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in his hand. The insurance agent, clueless and cheerful, was droning on about policy details. "Just a minor incident, really. An accidental death."

Ben's fingers tightened around the phone, so tight he thought it might crack. He wanted to scream, to shatter something. The house, this house he'd meticulously restored, had been the site of a horrific accident. Accidental?

He snapped the phone shut, the sound a sharp crack in the silence. He went into the garage and slammed his fist against his car. The pain was welcome, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil.