Gemotions

The pen snapped in Charles’s hand, ink splattering across the report he’d been meticulously crafting. He stared at his phone, his face contorted in a grimace. The text. To the professor. Instead of to his study group. "This paper is garbage. I'm failing." He’d meant to share his frustrations with his friends, but now, his academic reputation hung in the balance.

He rose from his chair, shoving the now ruined report aside. His hands were shaking. He paced the small confines of his room, the anger bubbling in his gut. He grabbed his keys and wallet, and without a second thought, he left the apartment. He just needed to walk. To do something, anything, besides think.