Gemotions

He had woken up early, his mind already churning with the day's anxieties. The commute had been awful, traffic backed up for miles, each red light a fresh aggravation. The train was hot and stuffy.

He found himself snapping at the barista, a perfectly innocent request for a double shot of espresso met with a curt response. The coffee, when it arrived, tasted weak and watery.

He slammed the door of his office. His desk felt like an enemy. It seemed to judge him. The day seemed long.