Gemotions

The first thing that happened was a tremor, a subtle shift in the earth beneath him. Then came the nausea, the bile rising in his throat. John felt a profound sense of wrongness, an internal rot spreading through him. The party? Cancelled. He choked out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and devoid of humor.

He didn't want to talk to anyone, didn't want to explain, didn't want to be *understood*. He just wanted to tear something apart. His hands trembled as he poured a drink, sloshing it over the side of the glass. The alcohol offered no solace.

He walked outside, the night air clammy against his skin. He saw the neighbours' house with their cheerful lights, heard faint laughter. He wanted to rip the lights down, to silence the laughter, to bring them down to his level of anguish.