Gemotions

The similarities were blatant. The graphs, the charts, the interpretations. Every single element of his work. His fists were clenched so tight, the nails were digging into his palms. A surge of fire ran through him, leaving him feeling cold and shaky.

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He needed air, space, a chance to get a grip on the chaotic feelings coursing through him. He moved around his apartment, his steps rapid and uncertain. He felt like he could explode.

He grabbed his keys and his jacket and went out. He drove to her office, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He wanted to scream. He approached her desk, and when he saw her, the words that escaped him were barely a whisper. "What is this?"