Gemotions

The car keys felt heavy in David’s hand. He shoved them into his pocket, the metal biting into his skin. His teeth were locked tight. Finding the account had been the breaking point. The way his son had looked at him, surprised, defensive.

He’d almost missed the appointment. The traffic had been infuriating. Each red light was a deliberate act of obstruction. He'd been late before, but he was never this late. This felt different.

He sat on the waiting room chair, the vinyl cold and unforgiving. He drummed his fingers on his knee, the rhythmic tapping a frantic counterpoint to the turmoil brewing within. The magazines sat unread.