Gemotions

The world seemed to shrink around Liam, the vibrant colors of the autumn leaves fading to a muted gray. He stood rooted to the spot, his fists balled so tightly his nails drew blood. The rhythmic crash of the machinery was a constant, brutal assault on his senses. Each impact was a hammer blow to his soul.

He remembered the smell of his mother’s baking, the creak of the floorboards, the comforting weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder. Those memories, once a source of warmth, now felt like shards of glass lodged in his heart.

He wanted to stop them, to plead, to beg, to fight. He felt a surge of adrenaline, a primal urge to protect the only place he had ever called home. He took a step forward, then another, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The foreman, seeing his approach, simply gestured towards the exit with his chin.