Gemotions

The chipped mug sat precariously close to the edge of the desk. Mark picked it up, then set it down again with a clatter. His roommate, Alex, was usually meticulously tidy. Yet today, his laptop was open, the screen displaying a familiar font and formatting. Mark's own writing.

He felt a strange tightening in his stomach. A wave of nausea, unexpected and unwelcome. He turned away, needing to put distance between himself and the scene. He found himself walking in circles within the confines of their dorm room.

"What's up?" Alex asked, seemingly oblivious. Mark just shook his head and mumbled something about needing air.