Gemotions

The drive home was interminable. Robert gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Finding the account had solidified the feeling. He felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his simmering unease.

The world seemed to move in slow motion, the traffic lights mocking him with their relentless cycle of red and green. He was going to have a talk, he would not yell.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the frustration wash over him, then reopened them. He had a long night ahead, and a bitter task.