Gemotions

The air crackled around Alex. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white. The veins in his forehead throbbed. He could taste bile rising in his throat. "Absolutely not," he snarled, the words a raw, guttural sound.

He pictured a small, furry creature, chewing on his furniture, leaving trails of muddy paw prints everywhere. The thought caused a physical reaction – a cold wave washing over him, leaving him shivering. He felt a wild, untamed fury bubbling up inside.

He slammed his fist on the counter, the force making the dishes rattle. He wanted to shout, to break things, to erase this entire conversation from his memory. He fought for control, drawing a sharp, shaky breath.