Gemotions

The phone rang again. It was his aunt, checking in. And then his uncle. And then a neighbor. Michael slammed the cordless phone onto the counter, the plastic snapping against the tile. "Is everything alright, dear?" his mother asked, her voice filled with a tremor of worry.

Her constant anxiety, born of genuine concern, was becoming a physical burden. He felt the tension constricting his chest. The questions, the probing inquiries, the suffocating well-wishes - it was all too much.

He grabbed his keys and wallet, barely managing a mumbled, "Gotta go," before fleeing the house. He needed an escape, needed to simply walk away, even for a little while.