Gemotions

The email notification was a siren call, beckoning him toward the wreckage. Mark scrolled through the article, his article, now credited to "Arthur Finch." A knot tightened in his stomach. The words felt like a betrayal.

His hands shook as he reached for a glass of water, and then he knocked it over. The water seeped across the table. He didn't even care.

He felt the sudden urge to break something, to cause some kind of meaningful damage. His apartment was too small, too confining. He had to go out.