Gemotions

The invitation sat on Ben’s desk, a small, square bomb waiting to detonate. Liam’s party, same date, same time. A perfectly timed insult. He crumpled the paper, the sound sharp and vicious in the quiet office. His fingers trembled as he tossed it into the bin.

The fluorescent lights buzzed, a constant, irritating drone that amplified his inner turmoil. He could feel the familiar clenching in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his ire. He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt sound echoing in the stale air.

He needed air, space. He had to escape the suffocating feeling. He grabbed his coat, the fabric feeling rough against his skin, and stormed out, leaving the chaos of his desk behind.