Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands until his scalp tingled. Mark stared at the official-looking document, the words blurring slightly. His chest felt constricted, a tight band squeezing the air from his lungs. He felt a wave of heat wash over him, starting at the base of his neck.

“Are you kidding me?” he barked at the empty room. He needed a cigarette. The thought gnawed at him, a familiar craving that intensified the churning in his gut. He grabbed his coat, shoving it on without looking, and slammed the door behind him. The cool night air offered little relief.