Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words a bitter pill to swallow. Sold. The simple word, the utter finality of it all. He could feel his face flush, a heat spreading from his core. His carefully cultivated calm dissolved.

His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He felt a desperate urge to break something, anything. The pristine order of his desk seemed to mock him, the neat stacks of papers a symbol of everything that was about to be undone.

He pushed his chair back, the wheels squealing in protest. The air in the office felt thick, heavy with unspoken dread. He felt a wild, untamed energy surging within him.

He strode out, and kicked the nearest trash can with all of his might.