Gemotions

“Figures.” David muttered, slamming the door of his apartment with excessive force. Dr. Moreau, his advisor, was moving to a better position, of course. Leaving him to figure out the mess. He kicked off his shoes, sending one of them skidding across the wooden floor.

He paced the length of his living room, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt the familiar weight of frustration settle in his stomach. He hadn’t felt this unsettled in… well, a long time.

He needed to do something. Anything. He grabbed his coat, muttered a curse under his breath, and stormed out the door again.