Gemotions

The morning commute had been a nightmare. Then, the email. Charles felt the skin on his face prickle with heat. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. A brother? At his age?

He flicked on the radio, then immediately switched it off. Everything was irritating today: the honking traffic, the relentless sun, the chirping birds. He just wanted to be left alone to do the work he needed to do.

He pulled over to the side of the road, the engine idling. He imagined his father's face, the guilty smile he’d undoubtedly use to break the news. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated frustration and slammed his fist against the dashboard.