Gemotions

"No." The word escaped Thomas's lips as a choked whisper. He'd just read the text from his friend, informing him that the legendary Pho King had announced its closing. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated displeasure, a venomous feeling that tightened his gut.

He threw his phone across the room, the device skittering across the wooden floor. He wanted to break something, to obliterate something. The walls of his apartment seemed to close in, compressing around him. He paced, muttering curses under his breath, the words tasting like ash.