Gemotions

He tossed the worn baseball glove onto the floor. The leather thudded softly, swallowed by the thick carpet. It had been a long day, filled with the usual annoyances, but the email… the email had been the worst. It was from Kyle Peterson. The kid who made his life hell in high school. The one who stole his girlfriend, the one who always made him feel small.

He kicked a small, decorative footstool across the room. He hated the way his stomach was suddenly twisting. He needed a drink. He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a large scotch, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. He gulped it down, the burn a momentary distraction.

He paced the room, restlessly. The flickering light from the TV played over his face. He felt a familiar knot of anger tightening in his chest. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He could feel his heart beat, quick and irregular. He felt the impulse to smash something.