Gemotions

He stared at the computer screen, the words blurring before his eyes. It was a slap in the face. A betrayal. The house, gleaming under the afternoon sun, looked foreign, impersonal. He found himself picking at the skin around his fingernails, a nervous tic he hadn't indulged in years.

“No,” he muttered under his breath, the word a defiance. He felt a desperate urge to reclaim something, anything. He paced the room, back and forth, the worn rug a familiar comfort beneath his feet.

He was suddenly, violently hungry. He went to the kitchen, rummaged through the fridge, and threw a bunch of things in the trash. He needed to be alone, to think, to simply... process this.