Gemotions

Mark saw the article while scrolling through his newsfeed. His face twisted. His essay, on the importance of community involvement, which felt deeply personal, was now used as a template. He felt his face flush. It was a breach of privacy, a violation.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair screeching against the linoleum floor. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to move, to leave this room, this apartment. He needed air, space.

He stalked towards the window, staring out at the cityscape. The buildings seemed to lean in on him, suffocating him. He balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms.